



GlpghtN" 



COPWIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Part h Price, 25 cents, 

ELEMENTS 



OF 



PSYCHOLOGY, 



WITH SPECIAL APPLICATIONS TO THE 



ART OF TEACHING. 



ON THE BASIS OF "OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY" 

FOR THE USE OF 

NORMAL SCHOOLS, HIGH SCHOOLS, TEACHERS' READING 
CIRCLES, AND STUDENTS GENERALLY. 



BY 

JAMES SULLY, M. A. 



NEW YORK: 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

I, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET. 
1886. 



FOUR VALUABLE BOOKS FOR TEACHERS. 



Education: Intellectual, Moral, and Physical. 

By IIerbert Spencer. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. Cheap edition, 12mo, paper, 
50 cents. 

Contents : I, What Knowledge is of Most Worth ? II. Intellectual Educa- 
tion ; III. Moral Education ; IV. Physical Education. 

•' The keynote of this treatise is, that Nature has a method of intellectual, 
moral, and physical development, which should afford the guiding principles of 
all teaching. Its wise suggestions— for there is nothing dogmatic in its pages- 
are the result of not a little keen observation, and it has become an authority, 
because its indications liave been attested by common sense and verified as true 
by experience.'"— JVew York Mail. 

Education as a Science. 

By Alexander Bain, LL. D., Professor of Logic in the University of 
Aberdeen. (Forming a volume of " The International Scientific 
Series.") 12mo, cloth, $1.75. 

Contents: I. Scopeof the Science of Education ; II. Bearings of Physiology ; 
III. Bearinsrs of Pt-ycholoL'y ; IV. Terms explained; V. Education Values; VI. 
Sequence of Subjects: Psychological; VII. Sequence of Subjects: Logical: 
VIII. Methods; IX. The Mother Tongue; X. The Value of the Classics; Xf. 
The Renovated Curriculum ; XII. Moral Education ; XIII. Art Education; XIV. 
Proportions. Appendix, Further Examples of the Object-Lesson, Passing Ex- 
planations of Terms. 

Principles and Practice of Teaching. 

By James Johonnot. 12mo, cloth, $1.50. 
Contents: I. What is Education; II. The Mental Powers: their Order of 
Development, and the Methods most conducive to Normal Growtli ; III. Objec* 
live Teachiuii : its Methods, Aims, and Principles; IV. Subjective Teaching: its 
Aims and Place in the Course of Instruction ; V. Object-Lessons : their Value 
and Limitations ; VI. Relative Value of the Different Studies in a Course ot In- 
struction ; VII. Pfstalozzi, and his Contributions to Educational Science; VIIL 
Froebel and the Kindergarten ; IX. As'assiz ; and Science in its Relation to 
Teaching ; X. Contrasted Systems of Education ; XL Physical Culture ; XII. 
Esthetic Culture ; XIII. Moral Culture ; XIV. A Course of Study . XV. Coun* 
try Schools. 

The Art of School Management. 

A Text-book for Normal Schools and Normal Institutes, and a Reference- 
book for Teachers, School-officers, and Parents. By J. Baldwin, 
President of the State Normal School, Kirksville, Missouri. 12mo, 
cloth, $1.50. ^ 

Contents: I. Educational Instrumentalities ; II. School OrL^anizatioo ; 111. 
School Govpmment; IV. Course of Study and Programme; V. Study and 
Teaching; VI. Class Management and Class WorK; VII. Management of Graded 
Schools : VIIL Grading, Examinations. Records, and Reports ; IX. Profes- 
sional Education ; X. Educational Systems, Educational Progress, and School 
Siipemsion. ^ 

D. APPLET ON &> CO., Publishers, I, 3, 6- 5 Bond St., New York. 



WORKS BY JAMES SULLY. 



STUDIES OF CHILDHOOD. 8vo. O-^h. $2.50. 

"A storehouse of anecdotes and observations o 
— London Journal 0/ Education. 

CHILDREN'S WAYS. i2mo. Cloth, 
A condensation of "Studies of Childhood," 
revised. 

OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY. New edition, re- 
vised and largely rewritten. i2mo. Cloth, I2.50. 

TEACHER'S HANDBOOK OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

On the Basis of " Outlines of Psychology." Abridged 
by the author for the use of Teachers, Schools, Read- 
ing Circles, and Students generally. i2mo. 590 pages. 
Cloth, 



ILLUSIONS: A Psychological Study. i2nio. 372 
pages. Cloth, $1.50. 

PESSIMISM: A History and a Criticism. Second 
edition. 8vo. 470 pages and Index. Cloth, $4.00. 

THE HUMAN MIND. A Text-Book of Psychology. 
Svo. 2 vols. Cloth, $5.00. 



D. APPLETON & COMPANY, Publishers, New York. 



ELEMENTS 



OF 



PSYCHOLOGY, 



WITH SPECIAL APPLICATIONS TO THE 



ART OF TEACHING. 



ON THE BASIS OF "OUTLINES OF PSYCHOLOGY" 

FOR THE USE OF 

NORMAL SCHOOLS, HIGH SCHOOLS, TEACHERS' READING 
CIRCLES, AND STUDENTS GENERALLY. 



h 



Oy''\'(\ ./by 



V 
JAMES SULLY, M. A. 




NEW YORK: 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 

I, 3, AND 5 BOND STREET. 
1886. 






Copyright, 1886, 
By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 



PUBLISHERS' EXPLANATORY NOTE. 



The issue of a portion of Sully's new work in this 
form makes necessary the following explanation. 

Mr. Sully's large text-book, *' The Outlines of Psy- 
chology," published in 1884, gave such prominence to the 
application of psychology to education as to suggest the 
desirability of separating this portion from the main text, 
and issuing it in a cheaper and more convenient form for 
general use of teachers. 

As soon as this demand became apparent, the publish- 
ers at once communicated with Mr. Sully upon the sub- 
ject, and he replied that an abridgment of this kind was 
a thing he had already purposed to do, and would imme- 
diately undertake the work and complete it without delay, 
so that it might be ready the first of the year, as intended, 
and the announcement was widely published. 

Nothing has been permitted to hinder the progress of 
the work, but it has been found impossible to issue it in 
satisfactory shape as soon as anticipated. 

In the mean time, the publishers were repeatedly ap- 
plied to by those who wanted to be commissioned to edit 
the new edition of the " Outlines." The invariable reply 
to these parties was, that the author himself was the proper 
one to be consulted about any abridgment or reshaping 
of his own work, and, if he consented to do it, no proposi- 
tion for the publication of other editions could be enter- 



iv PUBLISHERS' EXPLANATORY NOTE. 

tained ; nor would they consent to issue any abridgment 
of his larger work without his approval and sanction. 
This explanation in most instances was satisfactory, and 
the propriety of it recognized ; but one of these parties 
has unwarrantably appropriated Mr. Sully's brain-work, 
and, having secured a publisher, has brought out an un- 
authorized abridgment of the original work. 

It is unnecessary to comment on this proceeding, but 
this explanation is due to the many teachers, members of 
reading circles, and others, who have been waiting for 
the promised abridgment of Sully's " Psychology." The 
present pamphlet contains a part of the author's abridg- 
ment, already adopted by the reading circles and normal 
classes that have thus far prescribed Sully's work, and it 
is therefore the only authorized edition published or to be 
published, and in many important respects is a new and 
improved book. The complete volume will be ready with- 
in a few weeks, and will be promptly announced. 

D. Appleton & Co. 

January, 1886. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY, 



CHAPTER I. 

PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. 

Art and Science. — The doing of anything presup- 
poses some knowledge, for every action is the employment 
of certain agencies which stand in the relation of means to 
our particular end or object of desire ; and we could not 
select and make use of these means unless we knew be- 
forehand that they were fitted to bring about the fulfill- 
ment of our desire. This is evident even in the case of 
simple actions. Thus, if after sitting reading for some time 
and becoming cold I go out and take a brisk walk, it is 
because I know that by so doing I am certain to recover 
warmth. And it is still more manifest in the case of com- 
plex actions. The action of an engineer, of a surgeon, or 
of a statesman, involves a quantity of knowledge of vari- 
ous kinds. 

The knowledge which is thus serviceable for doing 
things or for practice is of two sorts. Thus, the knowl- 
edge implied in the above example, that muscular exercise 
promotes bodily warmth, may be knowledge that I have 
gathered from my own experience aided by what others 
have told me ; or it may have been obtained from a study 
of the bodily organism and its functions, and of the effects 
of muscular activity on the circulation, etc. The first kind 
of knowledge, being derived from what may be called un- 



2 PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. 

revised experience and observation, is called empirical ; the 
second kind, being the outcome of those processes of re- 
vision and extension of every-day empirical knowledge 
which make up the work of science, is named scientific. 

The chief differences between empirical and scientific 
knowledge are the following: (i) The former is based on 
a narrow range of observation, and on observation which 
is apt to be loose and inexact ; the latter, on a wide survey 
of facts and on accurate processes of observation and ex- 
periment. (2) The former consists of propositions which 
have only a limited scope, and are never, strictly speaking, 
universally true ; the latter is made up of propositions of 
wide comprehensiveness, and of universal validity, known 
as principles or laws. (3) As a result of this the conclusions 
deduced from empirical knowledge are precarious, whereas 
the conclusions properly drawn from scientific principles 
are perfectly trustworthy. 

We call any department of practice an art when the 
actions involved are of sufficient complexity and difficulty 
to demand special study, and to offer scope for individual 
skill. Thus, we talk now of an art of cooking, because 
with our advanced civilization the preparation of food has 
become so elaborate a process as to call for special prepa- 
ration or training. 

Every art requires a certain amount and variety of 
knowledge. In the early stages of development the vari- 
ous arts were carried on by help of empirical knowledge. 
Thus, in agriculture men sowed certain crops rather than 
others in given soils, because they and their predecessors 
had found out from experience that these were the best 
fitted. Similarly in medicine, men resorted at first to par- 
ticular remedies in particular diseases, because their prac- 
tical experience had taught them the utility of so doing. 

Such guidance from empirical sources was found to be 
insufficient. Workers in the various departments of art 
asked for a deeper knowledge of the agencies they em- 



ART AND SCIENCE. 3 

ployed and the processes they carried out, and so they 
had recourse to science. Thus the art of agriculture has 
profited from the sciences of chemistry and botany, and 
the art of medicine from the sciences of anatomy and 
physiology. Indeed, the demand for a fuller and more 
exact knowledge on the part of practical workers has been 
an important stimulus to the development of the sciences. 

The reason of this is plain from what has been said 
above. The characteristic imperfections of empirical 
knowledge become more and more manifest as an art de- 
velops. And these defects are the more conspicuous in 
the case of the more complex arts, and particularly those 
which have to do with living things. This is clearly illus- 
trated in the case of medicine. The organic processes 
going on in the human body are so numerous and compli- 
cated, there are so many variable circumstances which 
help to modify a disease in different cases, and so to inter- 
fere with a simple uniform effect of any given remedial 
agency, that the generalizations based on practical experi- 
ence are continually proving themselves to be inadequate 
and precarious. The great modern improvements in the 
art of healing have been the direct outcome of the growth 
of the sciences underlying the art. 

Hence we have come to employ in the case of all the 
more complex and intricate departments of practice the 
expression *' science and art." Thus we talk of the sci- 
ence and art of engineering, of agriculture, and even of 
politics. To this pair of correlated terms there corre- 
sponds the equally familiar couple, " theory and practice." 
For the term theory in this connection refers more par- 
ticularly to the principles or truths of a scientific rank 
which stand at the foundation of the art. 

It is important to understand the precise place and 
function of these scientific principles in their relation to 
practice. First of all, then, they do not take the place of 
empirical generalizations. These are at first, as already 



4 PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. 

remarked, the only knowledge by which an art can guide 
itself ; and they always continue to form a valuable part 
of every theory of a practical subject. Science alone 
would never have taught men the best way to till the 
ground, to obtain metal from the soil, or to carry out any 
other set of industrial operations. The function of scien- 
tific principles is to supplement, interpret, and, where 
necessary, correct empirical knowledge. In this way the 
teaching of practical experience is rendered more precise 
and certain. 

But science renders to art a yet greater service than 
this. It greatly enlarges the range of practical discovery. 
When once we have our scientific principles we can de- 
duce practical conclusions from these, and thus anticipate 
the slow and uncertain progress of empirical discovery. 
Thus, in the art of surgery, the modern method of treating 
wounds is largely the direct outcome of scientific reflec- 
tion on the nature of wounds and of the natural process 
of healing. Such deductions must, of course, be verified 
by actual experiment before they can take their place 
among the assured body of knowledge making up the 
theory of the subject. So that here, too, the theory of a 
practical operation is constituted by two factors — an em- 
pirical and a scientific. The only difference between this 
case and the first is that here the work of science precedes 
instead of following the work of experience, and, in place 
of having to supplement and interpret this, has to be sup- 
plemented and verified by it. 

Art and Science of Education.— The above re- 
marks may help us to understand the fact that the art of 
education is now seeking to ground itself on scientific 
truths or principles. 

As an art, education aims at the realization of a par- 
ticular end. This end must, of course, be assumed to be 
clearly defined before we can repair to science to ascertain 
what agencies we can best employ in order to compass it. 



ART AND SCIENCE OF EDUCATION. 5 

At first sight, however, it might seem that this condition 
is not satisfied. Writers have discussed at length what the 
true end of education is, and they have proposed very dif- 
ferent definitions of the matter. 

The reason of this uncertainty is apparent. Educa- 
tion, unlike such an art as cookery, has a large and com- 
prehensive object, viz., to help to mold and fashion in cer- 
tain definite ways no less complex a thing than a human 
being, with his various physical, intellectual, and moral 
capabilities, so as to fit him to fulfill his highest function 
and destiny. And to ascertain what the rightly fashioned 
man is like, and wherein consists his true work and serv- 
ice, is a problem of much difficulty. In truth, we can 
only satisfactorily settle this when we have determined the 
supreme ends of human action — in other words, the highest 
good of man. It is the province of the great practical 
science of ethics to ascertain this for us ; and the teachers 
of this science have from ancient times been divided into 
opposed schools. 

We need not, however, wait for the resolution of these 
grave and difficult problems. Men are to a large extent 
practically agreed as to what is right and wrong, though 
they have not settled the theoretic basis of these distinc- 
tions. In like manner educators are practically at one 
as to the' objects they aim at. In spite of ethical and 
theological differences, we agree to say that education 
seeks, by social stimulus, guidance, and control, to develop 
the natural powers of the child, so as to render him able 
and disposed to lead a healthy, happy, and morally worthy 
life. 

This is offered only as a rough approximation to a definition which 
may be generally accepted. In filling out this idea, different thinkers 
would no doubt diverge considerably, according to their conception of 
man's nature and destiny. Thus, to the firm believer in the Christian 
doctrine of a future life it must appear of the first consequence to de- 
velop those religious faculties and emotions the exercise of which con- 
stitutes man's highest function and the direct preparation for the larger 



6 PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. 

and enduring after-life. But, while fully recognizing the truth that 
religious belief must throughout profoundly color a man's conception 
of the scope of education and the relative value of its several parts, one 
may assume that in practice educators of widely unlike theological 
views agree as to the main lines of education in its distinctly human 
aspects. 

A word or two as to the scope of our definition. In the first place, 
we take education as aiming at the formation of faculty, rather than 
at the giving of information or the communication of knowledge. In 
other words, education, as the etymology of the word tells us (Lat., 
educere), has to do with drawing out, i. e., developing the mind and its 
various activities, and not merely with putting something into the mind. 
This distinction is often spoken of as that between education and in- 
struction. But the word instruction (Lat., instruere) implies the orderly 
putting together of the materials of knowledge so as to form a structure. 
And, taken in this sense, there is no fundamental opposition between 
the two. The faculties of the intelligence can only be called forth and 
strengthened in the processes of gaining knowledge, and thus " educa- 
tion attains its end through instruction." The teacher may, however, 
fix his mind more on the educative result of his processes, viz., the 
ability to observe and reason about facts in the future, or on the im- 
mediate gain of school exercises in the shape of useful knowledge. And 
this difference in the teacher's point of view will deeply affect his ideas 
as to proper subjects to be taught, and even as to the best method of 
teaching them. 

Finally, it is to be noted that our definition does not stop short at 
the intellectual side of the mind, but includes the other sides as well. 
The supposition that education is only concerned with the intellectual 
faculties probably has its source in the common error that the educator 
and the schoolmaster are synonymous terms, whereas in reality the 
latter is only one among many educators. And even the schoolmaster 
will err if he thinks his business ends with a mere intellectual discipline 
of his pupils. 

But, while our definition is thus a wide one, it is less wide than 
that of some thinkers, e. g., J. S. Mill, who included under education 
the influence of external circumstances generally. Education is to us 
essentially the action of other human beings on the child, and this only 
so far as it is conscious and designed. Moreover, in its higher forms, 
education implies a systematic application of external forces and agen- 
cies according to a definite plan and an orderly method.* 

* On the difference between education and instruction, see Prof. 
Payne's " Lectures on the Science and Art of Education," Lecture I, 



ART AND SCIENCE OF EDUCATION. y 

As soon as we approximate to a definition of educa- 
tion, as in the above, we see that merely empirical knowl- 
edge will carry us but a little way in realizing our object. 
For the human nature which it is our special business to 
develop is plainly the most complex of all living things. 
It is at once something material and something mental ; 
and this mental part, again, is exceedingly composite in its 
constitution, being made up of a number of intellectual 
and moral capabilities and dispositions. Nor is this all ; 
we find that these several physical and mental powers are 
joined together and interact upon one another in a very 
intricate and puzzling manner. Closely connected with 
this peculiar complexity of the child's nature, we have its 
great variability, showing itself in the unique constitution 
or idiosyncrasy of each individual child. Owing to these 
circumstances, mere experience could never have led men 
far on the right educational path. And as a matter of 
history we know that the older methods of educating the 
young were faulty, and in some respects radically wrong, 
just because they were not arrived at by aid of a profound 
and scientific study of child-nature. Thus, to take an 
obvious instance, the cardinal error of making so much of 
intellectual instruction dry and unpalatable arose out of 
ignorance of the elementary truth of human nature, that 
the intellectual faculties are only fully aroused to activity 
under the stimulus of feeling in the shape of interest. 
That this was the real source of the blunder is proved by 
the fact that the modern educational reformers, who have 
set themselves to correct this and other defects of the 
older system, were guided to these reforms by a deeper 
study of children's minds. This remark applies alike to 
the ideas of practical workers, as Pestalozzi, and of pure 
theorists, as Locke.* 

p. i3, etc. On some alternative definitions of education, see Dr. Bain's 
" Education as a Science," chap. i. 

* On the effects of an ignorance of psychology in rendering con- 



8 PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. 

What is really wanted as the groundwork of education 
is a body of well-ascertained truths respecting the funda- 
mental properties of the human being, from which the 
right and sound methods of training the young may be 
seen to follow as conclusions. This theoretic basis will 
consist of facts and laws relating to the child's physical 
and mental organization, its various susceptibilities, its 
ways of reacting on external agents and influences, and 
the manner in which it develops. And these universal 
truths must be supplied by some science or sciences. 

Divisions of Educational Science. — These prin- 
ciples are derived in the main from two sciences : physi- 
ology, or the science which treats of the bodily organism, 
its several structures and functions, and psychology, or 
mental science which deals with the mind, its several fac- 
ulties and their mode of operation. The former princi- 
ples, including certain applications of physiological science 
known as hygiene, underlie what is now called physical 
education, the training of the bodily powers and the fur- 
therance of health. The latter form the basis of mental 
— i. e., intellectual and moral — training. 

Within the limits of mental education we have certain 
subdivisions. Popularly we distinguish between intellect- 
ual and moral education ; but this twofold division is in- 
adequate. As we shall see by and by, the mind presents 
three well-marked and fundamental departments — viz., 
the intellect, the emotions, and the will. The develop- 
ment of it on any one of these three sides is to a certain 
extent a separate work, calling for its own particular mode 
of exercise, and, one may add, its own peculiar fitness in 
the teacher. These three directions of training are dis- 
tinguishable as intellectual, aesthetic, and moral education. 
They correspond to the three great ends: (i) the logical 
end of truth, (2) the aesthetic end of beauty, and (3) the 

temporary educational practices faulty and even vicious, see Herbert 
Spencer, " Education," chap, i, p. 24, and following. 



DIVISIONS OF EDUCATIONAL SCIENCE. 9 

ethical end of virtue. The first aims at building up the 
fabric of knowledge, and developing the faculties by which 
knowledge is reached ; the second, at such a cultivation of 
the feelings as will best subserve the end of a pleasurable 
existence, and in particular the appreciation and enjoy- 
ment of beauty in nature and art ; and the third, at devel- 
oping the will and forming the character. 

In giving this assistance to education, psychology is 
supplemented by three sciences which are not purely 
theoretical like it, but have a more practical character, 
since they have as their special province to regulate the 
activity of the mind on each of these three sides. These 
are logic, which regulates our intellectual operations by 
supplying us with rules for correct reasoning ; aesthetics, 
which aims at giving us a standard of beauty and criteria 
by which we may judge of its existence in any instance ; 
and ethics, which fixes the ultimate standard of right and 
wrong, and determines what are the several duties and 
virtues. 

The scientific groundwork of the art of education may 
be made clear by the following diagram : 



Physical. 



n 

Physiolo^ 

together with 

Hygiene. 



Fig. I. 
Education. 



Mental. 



n 

Psychology- 
together with 
Logic, 
^Esthetics, 
and Ethics. 



lO PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. 

Psychology and Education. — Of the sciences that 
contribute principles to education, psychology is plainly 
the most important. The teacher is most directly con- 
cerned with the development of the child's mind, and con- 
siders his bodily organism mainly in its connection with 
mental efficiency. 
/ / Again, since the teacher is commonly supposed to have 
as his principal object the exercise of certain of the intel- 
lectual faculties — viz., those employed in the acquisition 
and retention of knowledge — it is clear that some portions 
of psychology will be of special value to him. Thus the 
laws governing the processes of acquiring and reproduc- 
ing knowledge will have a peculiarly direct bearing on 
the teacher's work. Such truths of mental science would 
seem to be specially fitted to supply principles of education. 

At the same time, it is clearly impracticable to select 
certain portions of psychology as exclusively applying to 
education. For, first of all, even allowing that education 
need busy itself only with instruction, or the communica- 
tion of so much useful knowledge, it may be said that the 
teacher still needs to study other faculties than the acquis- 
itive ; for psychology teaches us that no power of the mind 
works in perfect isolation. Thus, it has come to be recog- 
nized that, in order that a child should gain clear knowl- 
edge through words, his observing faculties must have 
undergone a certain discipline, so that his mind may have 
been stored with distinct and easily reproducible images 
of objects in his actual surroundings. Hence, one reason 
for including the training of the senses in modern systems 
of education. More than this, it will be found that there 
can be no adequate exercise of the intellect which does 
not take account of the feelings, in the shape of interest 
and a love of learning. 

It follows, then, that the teacher needs some general 

//acquaintance with the principles of psychology, even 

though he is aiming merely at the most rapid and effect- 



ADVANTAGE TO THE TEACHER. n 

ive method of storing the mind with knowledge. But it 
may be assumed that few teachers now limit their efforts 
to this object. Education, in its true sense, is commonly 
aimed at by intelligent teachers in the process of instruc- 
tion itself, which thus becomes, in a measure at least, a 
means to an end beyond itself. And some attention is 
paid, as time allows and opportunity suggests, to the cul- 
tivation of the feelings and the formation of good moral 
dispositions and habits. And this being so, a clear appre- 
hension of the different sides of mind, and of the way in 
which they interact one on another, may be said to be of 
immediate utiUty to the teacher. In other words, the 
principles of education must be derived from the element- 
ary truths of psychology taken as a whole. 

It follows, from what was said above concerning the 
relation of science to art, that there are two principal uses 
of mental science to the teacher : (i) An accurate ac- 
quaintance with the mental faculties, which are the mate- 
rial that the educator has to operate on and mold into 
shape, will supply him with a criterion or touchstone by 
which he may test the soundness of existing rules and 
practices in education. (2) the knowledge so gained 
may be made to directly suggest better educational rules 
than those in vogue, and so to promote the further devel- 
opment of the art. 

No doubt we may expect too much from a study of 
mental science. We may err by supposing that scientific 
knowledge will render practical or empirical knowledge 
superfluous, instead of merely supplementing and correct- 
ing it. And it may be well to remember, therefore, that, 
as a sciencej^psychology can only tell us what are the gen- 
eral characters of mind, and point out the best way of 
dealing with it in its general features and broad outlines ; 
it can not acquaint us with the manifold diversities of in- 
telligence and disposition, or suggest the right modifica- 
tions of our educational processes to suit these variations. 



12 PSYCHOLOGY AND EDUCATION. 

Accordingly, the educator will always need to supplement 
his general study of mind by a careful observation of the 
individual minds which he is called upon to deal with, so 
as to properly vary and adapt his methods of teaching and 
disciplining. 

Even here, however, the student of psychology will 
find his scientific knowledge useful. For the work of get- 
ting to know an individual child is one not only of obser- 
vation but of interpretation. And in the performance of 
this a general acquaintance with mind will materially 
assist. It is evident, indeed, that we never understand 
an individual thing thoroughly except in the light of gen- 
eral knowledge. A botanist only comprehends a new 
plant when he classifies it — i. e., refers it to a general de- 
scription or head, and accounts for it by help of general 
botanical principles. Similarly we only understand a par- 
ticular child when we bring to bear on it a previous gen- 
eral knowledge of child and human nature. And while 
psychological knowledge thus aids us in reading the indi- 
vidual characters of children, it assists us further in deter- 
mining the proper modifications of our educational meth- 
ods to suit these variations^ Experience is without doubt 
our main guide here. Wh>at kind of punishment, for 
example, will be most efficacious and salutary for boys of 
a particular temperament, etc., is a problem which must 
be solved to a large extent by the results of actual trial. 
Still, our scientific principles are a valuable supplementary 
aid here also, not only by helping us to understand the 
different results of our educational treatment in different 
cases, but also by assisting us in lighting upon the required 

modifications. 

APPENDIX. 

On the scope and aim of education and its special relation to psy- 
chology, the student may consult : Prof. Payne's " Lectures on the Sci- 
ence and Art of Education," Lectures I and II ; Dr. Bain's " Education 
as a Science," chap, i ; Th. Waitz's " Allgemeine Padagogik," Ein- 
leitung, § I. 



CHAPTER II. 

SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Psychology, or mental science, may be defined as our 
general knowledge of mind, and more particularly the 
human mind, reduced to an exact and systematic form. 
In order to understand this definition, we must try to give 
precision to the term mind. 

Scientific Conception of Mind. — We commonly 
distinguish between a mind as a unity or substance and 
the several manifestations or phenomena of this substance. 
In every-day discourse, indeed, we talk of our own and 
others' minds as the subjects of various feelings, ideas, etc. 
Psychology as a science does not inquire into the nature 
of mind in itself, or as a substance, but confines itself to 
the study of its several states or operations. It is the 
different forms of activity of mind that we can observe in 
our actual mental experience or mental life that constitute 
the proper subject-matter of our science. And it is plain 
that this knowledge of the mind in actual operation, and 
of the various ways in which it manifests itself and works, 
is what we need for practical guidance, whether of our 
own or of others' minds. 

How, now, shall we mark off these mental facts from 
other phenomena which form the subject-matter of the 
physical sciences.'* We can not define such states of mind 
by resolving them into something simpler. They have 
nothing in common beyond the fact of being mental states. 



14 



SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Hence, we can only use some equivalent phrase, as when 
we say that a mental phenomenon is a fact of our con- 
scious experience or conscious life. Or, again, we may 
enumerate the chief varieties of these mental phenomena, 
and say that mind is the sum of our processes of knowing, 
our feelings of pleasure and pain, and our voluntary do- 
ings. Popularly, mind is apt to be identified with know- 
ing or intelligence. A man of mind is a man of intellect. 
But though intelligence is perhaps the most important 
part of mind, it is not the whole. In mental science we 
must reckon the sensation of pain arising from a bruise as 
a fact of mind. Or, finally, we may set mind in antithesis 
to what is not mind. Mind is non-material, has no exist- 
ence in space as material bodies have. We can not touch 
a thought or a feeling, and one feeling does not lie outside 
of another in space. These phenomena occur in time only. 
Hindis thus the inner smaller world (mikrokosm) as distin- 
guished from the external and larger world (makrokosm). 
Mind and Body. — While it is important thus to set 
mind in strong opposition to material things, we must keep 
in view the close connection between the two. What we 
call a human being is made up of a bodily organism and 
a mind. Our personality or " self " is a mind connected 
with or embodied in a material framework. As we shall 
see presently, all mental processes or operations are con- 
nected with actions of the nervous system. The most 
abstract thought is accompanied by some mode of activity 
in the brain-centers. Hence, while we must be careful 
not to confuse the mental and the material, the psychical 
and the physical, as though they were of the same kind 
(homogeneous), we can not exclude the latter from view 
in dealing with mind. We must always think of mind as 
attended by, and, in some inexplicable way, related to, the 
living organism, and more particularly the nervous system 
and its. actions. And this recognition of this close and 
constant companionship with body is a matter of great 



HOW WE OBSERVE AND STUDY MIND, 15 

practical moment in seeking to train and , develop the 
mind. 

The Subjective Method.— There are two distinct 
ways of knowing mind. The first is the direct, internal, 
or subjective way.* By this method we direct attention to 
what is going on in our own mind at the time of its oc- 
currence, or afterward. We have the power of turning 
the attention inward on the phenomena of mind. Thus 
we can attend to a particular feeling, say emulation or 
sympathy, in order to see what its nature is, of what ele- 
mentary parts it consists, and how it is affected by the 
circumstances of the moment. This method of internal 
or subjective observation is known as introspection 
(" looking within "). 

The Objective Method.~In the second place, we 
may study mental phenomena not only in our own indi- 
vidual mind, but as they present themselves externally 
in other minds. This is the indirect, external, or object- 
ive way of studying mental phenomena. Thus we note 
the manifestations of others' feelings in looks, gestures, 
etc. We arrive at a knowledge of their thoughts by their 
speech, and observe their inclinations and motives by 
noting their actions. 

This objective observation embraces not only the 
mental phenomena of the individuals who are personally 
known to us, old and young, but those of others of whom 
we hear or read in biography, etc. Also it includes the 
study of minds in masses or aggregates, as they present 
themselves in national sentiments and actions, and in the 
events of history. It includes too a comparative study of 
mind by observing its agreements and differences among 

* "Subject" means the mind as knowing something, or as affected 
(pleasurably or painfully) by a thing. "Object" is that which is 
known, or which affects the mind in a certain way. The house I see, 
the flower I admire, are objects to me, who am the subject that sees 
and admires them. 



1 6 SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

different races, and even among different grades of ani- 
mal life. The study of the simpler phases of mind 
in the child, in backward and uncivilized races, and in 
the lower animals, is especially valuable for understanding 
the growth of the mature or fully developed human mind. 

Both Methods must be combined. — Scientific 
knowledge is characterized by certainty, exactness, and 
generality. We must observe carefully so as to make 
sure of our facts, and to note precisely what is present. 
And we must go on from a knowledge of the particular 
to a knowledge of the general. From this rough defini- 
tion of what is meant by scientific knowledge we may 
easily see that neither the internal nor the external 
method is complete without the other. To begin with : 
since we only directly observe what is passing in our own 
individual mind, some amount of introspection is the first 
condition of all certain and accurate knowledge of mental 
states. To try to discover mental phenomena and their 
laws solely by watching the external signs and effects of 
others' thoughts, feelings, and volitions, would plainly be 
absurd. For these external manifestations are in them- 
selves as empty of meaning as words in an unknown 
tongue, and only receive their meaning by a reference to 
what we ourselves have thought and felt. On the other 
hand, an exclusive attention to the contents of our indi- 
vidual mind would never give us a general knowledge of 
mind. In order to eliminate the effects of individuality, 
we must at every step compare our own modes of think- 
ing and feeling with those of other minds ; and the wider 
the area included in our comparison, the sounder are our 
generalizations likely to be. 

Each of these ways of studying mind has its character- 
istic difficulties. To attend closely to the events of our 
mental life presupposes a certain power of " abstraction." 
It requires at first a considerable effort to withdraw the 
attention from the more striking events of the external 



OBSERVATION OF CHILDREN'S MINDS. 



17 



world, the sights and sounds that surround us, and to 
keep it fixed on the comparatively obscure events of the 
inner world. Even in the case of the trained psychologist 
the work is always attended with a peculiar difficulty. On 
the other hand, there is a serious danger in reading the- 
minds of others, due to an excess of the propensity to 
project our own modes of thinking and feeling into them. 
This danger increases with the remoteness of the mind we 
are observing from our own. To apprehend, for example, 
the sentiments and convictions of an ancient Roman, or 
of an uncivilized African, is a very delicate operation. It 
implies close attention to the differences as well as the 
similarities of external manifestation, also an effort of 
imagination by which, though starting from some remem- 
bered experiences of our own, we feel our way into a new 
set of circumstances, new experiences, and a new set of 
mental habits. 

Observation of Children's Minds.— These diffi- 
culties are strikingly illustrated in the attempt to note and 
interpret the external manifestations of children's minds. 
This observation is of the greatest consequence to psy- 
chologists in general, for a sound knowledge of the early 
manifestations of mind is a necessary preliminary to a sci- 
entific explanation of its later developments. And to the 
educator this knowledge constitutes the most important 
department of the science of mind. Yet this is perhaps 
one of the most difficult branches of psychological inquiry. 

The reason of this can easily be seen. Children have 
their own characteristic ways of feeling, of regarding 
things, of judging as to truth, and so forth. And, al- 
though the adult observer of children has himself been a 
child, he is unable, except in rare cases, to recall his own 
childish experiences with any distinctness. How many of 
us are really able to recollect the wonderings, the terrors, 
the grotesque fancies of our first years ? And then chil- 
dren are apt to be misunderstood because they have to 



1 8 SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

use our medium of speech and often fail to seize its exact 
meaning. 

Nevertheless, these difficulties are not insuperable. 
They can be got over where there are present the qualifi- 
cations of a good observer and an earnest purpose. And 
it must be borne in mind that if there are special difficul- 
ties in the case, there are also special facilities. For chil- 
dren, as compared with adults, are frank in the manifesta- 
tion of their feelings, and free from the many little artifices 
by which their elders are wont, only half consciously 
perhaps, to disguise and transform their real thoughts and 
sentiments in expressing them to others. 

The special qualities needed for a close observation 
and deep understanding of the child-mind are good ob- 
serving habits and a strong, loving interest in childhood. 
Both of these are necessary. If we have only the first, we 
shall fail to see far into child-nature, just because we shall 
not take the trouble to place ourselves, in imagination, in 
the circumstances of children, so as to realize how they 
are affected by things. A warm, tender interest, leading 
to a habit of unfettered companionship, seems to be a 
condition of a fine imaginative insight into children's 
minds, and a firm grasp of the fact that their ways differ 
in so many particulars from our ways. On the other 
hand, if there is the kindly feeling without the trained 
faculty of observation, there is the risk of idealizing child- 
hood, and investing it with admirable traits that do not 
really belong to it. 

In the matter of child-observation the psychologist 
may look to the educators of the young, the parent and 
the teachers, for valuable aid. Some of the best observa- 
tions on the subject of the infant mind which we already 
possess have been contributed by fathers. And much 
may still be done by parents in the way of recording the 
course of development of individual children. At the 
same time, school-teachers, though coming into less inti- 



GENERAL KNOWLEDGE OF MIND. 19 

mate relations with individual children, have the very great 
advantage of observing numbers. And from them we may 
reasonably ask for statistics of childhood. The dates at 
which certain faculties become prominent, the relative 
strength of the several feelings and impulses, the dominant 
intellectual and moral characteristics of children, these 
and other points are all matters about which teachers, who 
will take the trouble to note accurately, may be expected 
to supply the psychologists of the future with much valu- 
able knowledge.* 

General Knowledge of Mind. — As has been ob- 
served, science consists of general knowledge, or knowl- 
edge expressed in a general form. Hence, mental science 
seeks to generalize our knowledge of mind. In the first 
place, it aims at grouping all the phenomena observed 
under certain heads. That is to say, it classifies the end- 
less variety of mental states according to their resem- 
blances. In so doing it overlooks the individual differ- 
ences of minds and fixes attention on their common feat- 
ures. A sound scientific classification of mental states is 
a matter of practical importance, whether we are dealing 
with minds in the earlier or the later stages of develop- 
ment. Thus, the teacher will be in a far better position 
to deal with a child's mind, both in its several parts and 
as a whole, when he has reduced the tangle of mental 
manifestations to order and simplicity. 

In the second place, every science aims not only at 
ordering its phenomena, but at making certain assertions 
about them. There are general truths or laws which hold 
good of numerous varieties of phenomena. When the 
phenomena are occurrences in time, these laws have to do 
with the relation of events to other events preceding or 

* On the qualifications of an observer of children's minds, and on 
the literature of the subject, see the writer's Introduction to M. Perez's 
work, " The First Three Years of Childhood." London : W. Swan Son- 
nenschein & Co. 



20 SCOPE AND METHOD OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

succeeding them. That is to say, they formulate the re- 
lations of causal dependence of phenomena on other phe- 
nomena. Mental science seeks to arrive at such truths or 
l^ws of mind. Its ultimate object is to determine the con^ 
ditions on which mental phenomena depend. Thus, the 
psychologist asks what are the conditions of retention, 
what are the circumstances which produce and favor the 
keeping of impressions in the mind. And it is this knowl- 
edge of conditions and of laws which is of greatest practi- 
cal value. For it is only by understanding how a mental 
product is formed that we can help in forming it, or inter- 
fere so as to modify the process of formation. 

Now, a little attention to the subject will show that 
mental phenomena are related in the way of dependence 
not only to other phenomena immediately preceding, but 
to remotely antecedent phenomena. For example, the 
quick response of a child to a command depends not only 
on certain present conditions, viz., attention to the words 
of the command, etc., but on past conditions, on the forma- 
tion of a habit, which process may have been going on for 
years. Hence, the consideration of relations of depend- 
ence leads on to the view of mind as a process of growth or 
development. The most important laws of mind, from the 
educator's point of view, are laws of mental development. 

Before we go on to consider the several groups of 
mental states in detail and the laws which govern them, 
we shall do well to look at mind from the physiological 
side, that is to say, at the way in which the mind as a 
whole is affected by its connection with the bodily organ- 
ism. This aspect of our subject will occupy us in the 
next chapter. 

APPENDIX. 

For a fuller account of the scope and method of psychology the 
reader is referred to my larger work, " Outlines of Psychology," Appen- 
dix A ; also to the works referred to in the appendix to Chapter II of 
that volume. 



CHAPTER III. 

MIND AND BODY. 

Connection between Mind and Body. — When we 
say that mind and body are connected, we are simply 
stating a fact of our every-day experience, and a fact 
which scientific observation and experiment are rendering 
more and more certain and precise. That is to say, we 
affirm that mental processes or operations are in some way 
conjoined with bodily operations. We do not make any 
assertion as to the ultimate nature of mind or of body, or 
seek to account for the apparent mystery of two things so 
utterly disparate as mind and body being thus united in 
one living being. These problems lie outside science 
altogether, and belong to the domain of philosophy or 
metaphysics. 

Keeping then to the phenofnena, or observable processes 
of mind and of body, we find first of all that these are 
clearly conjoined in time. That is to say, mental activity 
goes on along with bodily activity and always has this for 
its accompaniment. We know nothing of mental opera- 
tions that are unattended by physical changes in certain 
portions of the body. And some of these physiological 
processes appear to be perfectly simultaneous with the 
mental operations to which they correspond. In the 
second place, there is an apparent interaction between 
the mental and physical processes. As we shall see 
presently, there are certain organs of the body which are 
3 



22 MIND AND BODY. 

in a peculiar way subservient to the discharge of the 
several mental functions. According to their state at any- 
time will mental activity be lively or otherwise. More- 
over, by influencing these physical organs we may pro- 
duce changes in the correlated mental operations. Hence 
we are justified in speaking about these organs as the 
physiological support of mind, and of their activity as the 
condition of mental activity. On the other hand, mental 
processes react on the bodily organism. Thus excessive 
intellectual activity, violent grief, and so forth, are known 
to have far-reaching effects on the bodily functions. 

The Nervous System. — The particular organs which 
thus subserve our mental life are known as the nervous 
system, of which the brain is one of the most important 
parts. These are therefore known as the organs of 
mind.* 

The nervous system is a connected set of physio- 
logical structures, composed of a very fine or highly 
organized form of living matter. These fall into two 
main divisions : compact masses known as nerve-centers, 
lying protected within the bony covering of the skull and 
backbone ; and extensive thread-like ramifications known 
as nerves, connecting these central masses with outlying 
regions of the body. 

The nerves, which are bundles of exceedingly fine 
white fibers or threadlets, are the carrying portion of the 
nervous apparatus. They are of two classes. The first 
connect the centers with outlying surfaces, which are 
susceptible of being acted on by certain external agents 
or stimuli, such as mechanical pressure, heat, etc. Their 
function is to transmit the state of nervous activity pro- 
duced by this stimulation from the periphery to the 
center. Hence they are known as incarrying or afferent 

* The nervous system here means the cerebro-spinal system as dis- 
tinct from the sympathetic system which subserves the lower vital 
functions of the body. 



THE NERVOUS SYSTEM. 23 

nerves. Since the central effect of this transmission of 
the active state is what we call a sensation, these nerves 
are also called sensory nerves, and the peripheral surfaces 
sensory surfaces. Such are the skin, the retina of the 
eye, etc. The other class of nerves connect the centers 
with muscles, or those bundles of fiber by the contractions 
of which the limbs are moved and the voice exercised. 
They carry nervous impulses from within outward,, and 
are known as outcarrying or efferent nerves. And since 
this outgoing activity immediately precedes and produces 
muscular contraction, and so movement, they are also 
called motor nerves. 

The nerve-centers are made up partly of gray masses 
having a minute cellular structure, and partly of bundles of 
nerve fiber, connecting these masses one with another, both 
laterally and longitudinally. They have as their peculiar 
function to transform sensory stimulation into movement, 
and to adjust the latter to the former ; also to bring to- 
gether the results of different sensory stimulations, and to ad- 
just complex groups of movements to groups of impression. 

These nerve-centers are arranged in a series or scale of 
growing complexity. The lower centers are those residing 
in the backbone and known as the spinal column. The 
higher centers lodged within the skull are called the brain. 

From this brief description of the nervous system, it 
will be seen that the general form of nervous action is a 
process of sensory stimulation followed by one of motor 
excitation. This may be represented by the diagram, Fig. 2. 

This scheme roughly answers to the simpler type of 
actions of ourselves as well as of the lower animals, the 
type known as reflex action, i. e., movement in immediate 
response to external stimulus. Thus, when a child asleep 
instantly withdraws his foot when this is pressed, the action 
is effected by means of the lower spinal centers. Such 
reflex actions, however, are not attended with any mental 
activity ; they are unconscious. 



24 



MIND AND BODY. 
Fig. 2. 



Sensory Surface 




'Nerve-Centers* 



Muscles. 



The more complicated actions involve the co-operation 
of the brain as well. In this case we have to suppose that 



Fig. 3. 



Sensory Surface 




Higher Nerve-Centers. 



.1*1* Lower Nerve-Centers. 



Muscles. 



THE SPECIAL ORGANS OF MIND. 25 

the sensory stimulation, instead of passing over at once 
into motor impulse, is propagated further, and engages a 
larger portion of the central structures. This may be 
represented by the diagram. Fig 3. 

Such complicated actions are accompanied by mental 
activity or consciousness. They may be illustrated by the 
act of relieving the pressure of a tight boot by stooping 
and taking it off. This action involves a distinct sensation 
of pressure, and the action of the will in resolving to get 
rid of the discomfort. 

The Special Organs of Mind. — We see from this 
that mental life is connected with the action of the higher 
centers, or the brain. Only when the brain is called to 
take part is there any distinct mental accompaniment. 
The brain thus stands in relation to the lower centers 
somewhat as the head of an office stands in relation to his 
subordinates. The mechanical routine of the office is car- 
ried on by them. He is called on to interfere only when 
some unusual action has to be carried out, and reflection 
and decision are needed. Moreover, just as the principal 
of an office is able to hand over work to his subordinates 
when it ceases to be unusual and becomes methodized and 
reduced to rule, so we shall find that the brain or certain 
portions of it are able to withdraw from actions when 
they have grown thoroughly familiar. This is illustrated 
in the actions which we perform with little consciousness 
because they have become easy and mechanical by repeti- 
tion and habit. 

According to this view, the activity of the brain, together with the 
mental life which accompanies it, intervenes between the action of ex- 
ternal things on the organism and the active response of this organism, 
and subserves the higher and more complicated adjustments of mus- 
cular movement to sensory stimulation. All the earlier and simpler 
forms of cerebral activity are excited by the action of external sensory 
stimuli, and are directed to the performance of external actions in the 
immediate future. 

The later and more complicated actions of the brain do not conform 



26 MIND AND BODY. 

to this description. We carry out many processes of reflection which 
have nothing to do with the external surroundings of the moment, and 
which, moreover, are not directed to the immediate realization of any 
desire or purpose. Much of the intellectual life of educated people is 
of this internal character. But even this apparently isolated internal 
activity of the brain may be reduced to the same fundamental type, by 
considering it as indirectly excited by impressions from without, and 
as a preparation for remote actions, certain or contingent, in the future. 
Thus, the study of a science like chemistry or astronomy may be de- 
scribed as only a high stage of elaboration of materials obtained from 
sense, and as undertaken because of its remote bearings on our actions. 

Nature of Nervous Action. — The precise nature of 
nervous action is still a matter of uncertainty. It appears 
to be some form of molecular movement of a vibratory 
character, and propagated somewhat in the manner of 
other vibratory movements, as those of heat and elec- 
tricity. 

The nerve-centers are a storehouse of energy, and their 
action increases the force of the current of stimulation 
which passes through them. This originating action of 
the central structures is known as the nervous discharge, 
and involves the liberation of energy which was previously 
stored up in a latent condition. This setting free of nerv- 
ous energy is effected by a process of disintegration or dis- 
organization in which the highly organized matter of the 
brain undergoes chemical changes and enters into com- 
bination with the oxygen which is brought by the blood. 
The force thus liberated may accordingly be said to have 
been supplied by the process of nutrition, and to have be- 
come latent in the work of building up the organic sub- 
stance of the brain. The relation between brain-nutrition 
and brain-action has been illustrated by the following 
analogy. If we take a number of bricks and set them up 
on end in a row sufficiently near one another, a slight 
amount of pressure applied to the first member of the 
series will cause the whole to fall, each brick adding some- 
thing to the force of the transmitted impact. Our muscu- 



MENTAL ACTIVITY AND BRAIN EFFICIENCY, 27 

lar work in setting up the bricks was transformed into 
latent or potential energy, viz., that involved in the un- 
stable position of the bricks and their liability to fall. 
According to this analogy, the organic substance of the 
brain is an unstable compound easily broken up, and so 
constituting a reservoir of force. 

We see from this that the nerve-substance is being 
ever unmade and remade, or disintegrated and redinte- 
grated ; and, further, that there is a necessary correlation 
between these two processes of decomposition and repara- 
tion, so that no nervous action is possible except nutrition 
has first done its work. 

Mental Activity and Brain Efficiency. — As already 
pointed out, mental activity is directly connected with 
the exercise of brain-function. When a child uses his 
mind in any way, either by trying to learn something or 
by giving way to great emotional excitement, his brain is 
at work. The greater the mental activity, the more the 
resources of the brain are taxed. This activity of the 
brain necessitates an increased circulation of the blood in 
the organ, both for supplying the nutritive materials re- 
quired, and for furthering the process of nervous action 
itself by an adequate supply of oxygen, and by a suffi- 
ciently rapid removal of the waste products. 

If the brain thus furnishes the physical support of 
mental activity, it is to be expected that this will vary in 
amount with the state of the organ. And this is what we 
find. We all know that if the nervous energy is lowered 
in any way, as by bodily fatigue, grief, etc., the brain re- 
fuses to work smoothly and easily. On the other hand, 
the action of stimulants, as alcohol, on the brain illustrates 
how the mental activity may for a time be raised by add- 
ing to the excitability, and so intensifying the activity of 
the brain. 

The amount of disposable energy in the brain at any 
time, and the consequent readiness for work, will vary 



28 MIND AND BODY. 

with a number of circumstances, (i) Since the brain and 
nervous system as a whole are parts of the bodily organ- 
ism, that is to say, a system of organs closely connected 
with and powerfully interacting on one another, any con- 
siderable fluctuation in the condition of one of the other 
organs will tell on the efficiency of the brain. Thus the 
special demand on the digestive organs after a good meal, 
leading to a diversion of blood as well as of nervous ener- 
gy in that direction, interferes for the time with brain- 
work. Similarly great muscular exertion militates against 
mental application. Again, a disturbance of the proper 
function of the vital organs, such as a fit of indigestion or 
an impeded circulation of the blood, is known to be an 
obstacle to mental activity. Once more, all fluctuations 
in the condition of the organism as a whole, whether the 
periodic exaltation and depression of the physical powers 
which constitute the daily vital rhythm of the body, or 
the irregular changes which we call fluctuations of health, 
involve the brain as well. The organ of mind shares with 
the whole body in the vigor and freshness of the morning, 
and the lassitude of the evening ; and it shares in the 
fluctuating well-being of the body. Lastly, the mind, in 
conjunction with the body, passes through the longer pro- 
cesses of growth and decay which constitute the course of 
the individual life. 

Brain- Activity and Brain-Fatigue. — (2) While the 
efficiency of the brain thus depends on the state of the 
bodily organs, it is affected by the preceding state of the 
organ itself. Thus, after a period of rest, the nervous 
substance being duly renewed, there is a special readiness 
for work. It is this circumstance which explains the in- 
vigorating effects on the powers of the brain of sound 
sleep, and of less complete forms of mental repose, such 
as are found in the lighter intellectual recreations. On 
the other hand, all brain-work tends to exhaust the nerv- 
ous energy and so to lower the subsequent efficiency. 



OVERTAXING THE BRAIN. 29 

If the work is light in character, the effects are of course 
less noticeable : nothing like brain-fatigue is induced, and 
we may be unaware of any falling off in power. On the 
other hand, after a severe application of the mind, even 
for a short time, we become distinctly aware of certain 
sensations of fatigue, as well as of a temporary falling off 
in vigor. In the case of children, whose stock of brain- 
vigor is much smaller, these effects show themselves much 
sooner. 

The physiological explanation of these facts is as fol- 
lows : In the lighter kinds of brain-activity, the consump- 
tion of brain-material being small, the process of recuper- 
ation easily keeps pace with it. On the other hand, in the 
heavier sorts of mental work, energy is consumed faster 
than it can be supplied ; the process of redintegration 
does not keep pace with that of disintegration. This 
points to the necessity of a frequent relaxation of the 
nervous strain, especially at the beginning of school-life. 

Effects of Brain- Activity on the Organism.— But 
this is not the whole effect of brain-activity. In cases 
where the powers of the organ are taxed for a prolonged 
period, other organs are liable to be affected. Thus, since 
prolonged brain-exercise draws off the blood in too large 
a quantity to that organ, it is apt to impede the general 
circulation, and so to give rise to the familiar discomforts 
of cold feet, etc. Graver results may ensue in the case of 
the too eager student who by using up nerve-energy too 
extravagantly in brain-work leaves too little for the other 
functions of the nervous system, and more particularly the 
regulation of the vital processes, and so becomes the sub- 
ject of chronic dyspepsia, etc. We thus see that while the 
state of the bodily organs influences that of the brain, 
there is an important reciprocal action of the higher organ 
on the lower ones. 

Overtaxing the Brain. — It follows from the above 
remarks that it is possible to exact from the brain more 



30 MIND AND BODY, 

work than it is good for it to perform. Wherever brain- 
work is accompanied by a distinct feeling of fatigue, this 
points to an overstimulation of the organ. By overstimu- 
lation is meant, first of all, bringing pressure to bear on 
the brain so as to excite it to activity beyond the point at 
which recuperation keeps pace with expenditure of energy ; 
and, secondly, the exercise of the brain disproportionately, 
that is, in relation to the other organs of the body, more 
particularly the vital organs. 

It is exceedingly important to distinguish this second 
and more profound sense of the term overstimulation from 
the first. There can be overexercise of the brain when 
the local symptoms of brain-fatigue are not present. The 
brain, like the other organs, learns to adapt itself within 
certain limits to the amount of work required of it. A 
child, when first subjected to the prolonged and system- 
atic stimulation of the school, comes in a short time to feel 
less of the strain of mental application. This may mean 
a diminution of effort by the normal results of exercise and 
growth ; but it may also mean that the increased activity 
of the organ is due to an unfair distribution of the phys- 
ical energy, the organ of mind being enriched at the expense 
of the vital organs. 

Now, this risk is peculiarly great in early life, when a 
large fund of nutritive material is needed for the processes 
of growth. Severe exercise of any organ, by using up 
material in functional action, though it may further the 
development^ i. e., the higher structural condition of that 
organ, is directly opposed to the growth^ that is, the ex- 
pansion in bulk of the body. 

All severe exercise of the brain in early life is opposed 
to the laws of development of the child's being. Accord- 
ing to these the lower vital functions are developed before 
the higher. First comes the vegetal or nutritive life ; then 
the common animal life of sense and movement ; and 
finally the distinctly human life of mind. The develop- 



VARIATION OF BRAIN-EXERCISE. 31 

ment of these higher mental functions is only normal and 
safe when a firm basis of physical strength and well-being 
has first been laid down. To try to force on the functions 
of the brain in advance of those of the vital organs is to 
endanger the whole organism, and along with this the or- 
gans of mind themselves.* 

In thus touching on the risks of educational pressure, 
it may be well to add that they are susceptible of being 
overrated as well as underrated. It is an error to suppose 
that all systematic teaching tends in the direction of over- 
excitation of the brain. So far from this being the case, 
it may be confidently said that within certain limits mental 
occupation is distinctly beneficial to the child. Every 
organ requires a certain amount of exercise in order to 
continue in a healthy and vigorous condition. Children 
deprived of the material for mental activity suffer from 
tedium, which may be viewed as a symptom that the mmd 
and brain are in need of exercise. Many children have 
become happier and healthier after entering on school-life, 
and this not merely because the school supplied healthier 
physical surroundings, but also because it supplied a 
healthier regime for the brain. To this is to be added that, 
as already pointed out, the brain, like other organs, grows 
stronger by exercise, and within certain limits it is per- 
fectly safe to carry on a progressively increasing stimula- 
tion of the organ. 

Remission and Variation of Brain-Exercise. — 
The great danger, especially with young children, is that 
of unduly prolonging the duration of the mental strain at 
one time. A short exertion even of great severity is in- 
nocuous, whereas an unbroken application of mind to a 
difficult subject for half an hour or more may be injurious. 
One of the greatest improvements in modern educational 

* On the injurious effects of excessive stimulation of the brain in 
retarding^ bodily growth, see Herbert Spencer, " Education," chap, iv, 
p. 165, and following. 



32 



MIND AND BODY. 



methods, considered both from a hygienic point of view 
and from that of mental efficiency itself, is the substitution 
of short for long lessons, and the frequent alternation of 
mental and bodily exercise. These breaks, though, in ap- 
pearance, occasioning a loss of time and adding to the 
teacher's labors in restoring order and recalling the pupil's 
minds to the calm attitude of attention, are in reality a 
true economy of time and force. 

Since the brain is a complicated group of structures, it 
is reasonable to suppose that different regions are specially 
engaged in different kinds of mental activity. And mod- 
ern science, while rejecting the definite mapping out of 
the brain functions proposed by the phrenologists, is dis- 
tinctly tending toward a new and carefully verified theory 
of localization of function. Adopting this view of brain- 
action as engaging special centers at different times, we 
may see that the due variation of school subject owes a 
part of its value at least to the circumstance that it fulfills 
in a subordinate manner the purpose of brain-rest. Thus, 
by passing from an object lesson to a singing lesson, the 
centers of vision are put into a condition of comparative 
rest, while other centers, the auditory and vocal, which 
have been recuperating, are called into play. And as sci- 
ence enables us to localize the brain functions more ex- 
actly, the theory of education will probably receive from 
it further guidance as to the best way of varying school 
exercises. 

Differences of Brain-Power. — The educator should 
bear in mind that children are endowed with very unequal 
cerebral capacity. The whole sum of vital force is a dif- 
ferent one in the case of different children, and the dis- 
tribution of this among the several organs is also different. 
Hence, an amount of mental exercise that would be quite 
safe in one case would be harmful in another. The indi- 
vidual co-efficient of brain-power is the limit set by nature 
to the teacher's efforts, and he can not afford to ignore it. 



DIFFERENCES OF BRAIN-POWER. 33 

This co-efficient determines the amount of mental reaction 
to external stimulus. Just as one and the same physical 
stimulus will evoke very unequal amounts of muscular ac- 
tivity in the case of a vigorous and a feeble body, so the 
same quantity of intellectual stimulus will call forth very 
unlike mental reactions in the case of a robust and a 
weakly brain. This varying co-efficient of brain-power is 
seen very distinctly in the different rates of mental work 
of different children. It is not too much to say that the 
whole range of mental acquisition is in each case fixed 
from the first by the child's cerebral capacity. 

On the connection between body and mind in its educational 
bearings the student is referred to H. Spencer's " Education," chap. 
iv. ; Dr. Bain's " Education as a Science," chap. ii. ; Dr. Andrew 
Combe's '* Principles of Physiology applied to the Preservation of 
Health and to the Improvement of Physical and Mental Education," 
chaps, xi. to xiv., which, in spite of antiquated phrenological allusions, 
are still well worth reading. 



CHAPTER IV. 

KNOWING, FEELING, AND WILLING. 

Mental Phenomena and Operations. — As was 

pointed out above, mental science consists of an orderly- 
arrangement of the general truths, or laws which relate to 
mental phenomena. In order to arrive at these truths, we 
have first to ascertain what our phenomena are, and to 
arrange them in general groups or classes, based on funda- 
mental points of likeness. 

Mental phenomena are known by different names. 
They are commonly called states of mind, or states of 
consciousness. Since, however, they are phenomena in 
time, having a certain duration and a succession of parts, 
they are just as often spoken of as mental processes or 
operations. It is important, further, to distinguish be- 
tween a mental process or operation and its result or prod- 
uct. Thus we distinguish between a process of percep- 
tion, and its result, a percept ; a process of association and 
suggestion, and its product, a recollection ; between an 
operation called reasoning and its result, rational convic- 
tion, and so forth. 

Classification of Mental Operations. — If we com- 
pare our mental states at different times, we find them 
presenting very different characters. Sometimes we de- 
scribe ourselves as expenencing /ee/ings of joy, grief, etc., 
at other times as thinking about a matter, and so forth. 
And, if we look more closely at the contents of our mind 



KNOWING, FEELING, AND WILLING, 35 

at one and the same time, we are commonly able to dis- 
tinguish between different ingredients, as emotions, recol- 
lections, desires. 

Common thought has long since distinguished between 
different classes or varieties of mental operation. Scien- 
tific research carries this process further, and seeks to 
reach the most fundamental differences among our mental 
operations. This is commonly described as dividing mind 
into its fundamental functions, and also as analyzing it 
into its elements. 

If we examine the every-day distinctions of popular 
psychology, we find that there are three fairly clear divis- 
ions which do not seem to have anything in common be- 
yond being all modes of mental activity. Thus we ordi- 
narily describe such activities as perceiving, remembering, 
and reasoning, as intellectual operations. So, again, we 
bring sorrow, joy, love, anger, and so on, under the general 
description of feeling or e?notion. And, finally, we gather 
up operations like purposing, deliberating, doing things, 
under the head of will. We broadly mark off these three 
sides of mind, and talk of men as exhibiting now one and 
now another aspect. 

Feeling, Knowing, and Willing.— Mental science 
adopts this three-fold division, (i) Under Feeling ^ we 
include all pleasurable and painful conditions of mind. 
These may be very simple feelings, having definite bodily 
causes, such as the painful sensations of hunger and thirst, 
or the pleasures of the palate. Or they may be of a more 
complex nature, such as love, or remorse. (2) Knowing, 
again, includes all operations which are directly involved 
in gaining knowledge, as, for example, observing what is 
present to the senses, recalling the past, and reasoning. 
(3) Finally, Willing or Acting covers all active mental 
operations, all our conscious doings, such as walking, 
speaking, attending to things, together with efi"orts to do 
things, active impulses and resolutions. The perfect type 



36 KNOWING, FEELING, AND WILLING. 

of action is doing something for an end or purpose ; and 
this is what we ordinarily mean by a voluntary action. 

Opposition between Knowing:, Feeling, and 
Willing. — These three kinds of mental state are, as 
we have seen, in general clearly marked off one from 
another. A child in a state of strong emotional excite- 
ment contrasts with a child calmly thinking about some- 
thing, or another child exerting his active powers in doing 
something. If we take any one of these aspects of mind 
in a well-marked form, we see that it is opposed to the 
other aspects. Thus strong feeling is opposed to and 
precludes at the time calm thinking (recollecting, reason- 
ing), as well as regulated action (will). Similarly, the 
intellectual state of remembering or reasoning when fully 
developed at the moment is opposed to feeling and to 
doing. The mind can not exhibit each variety of function 
in a marked degree at the same time. 

This opposition may be seen in another way. If we 
compare, not different states of the same mind, but differ- 
ent minds as a whole, we often find now one kind of 
mental state or operation, now another in the ascendant. 
Minds marked by much feeling (sensitive, emotional na- 
tures) commonly manifest less of the intellectual and voli- 
tional aspects or properties. Similarly, minds of a high 
degree of intellectual capability (inquiring or inquisitive 
minds), or of much active endowment (active minds), are 
as a rule relatively weak in the other kinds of endowment. 

It follows from this that the training of the mind in 
any one of its three functions is to some extent a separate 
matter. Thus, intellectual education has its separate end, 
viz., the production of a quick, unerring intelligence, 
which end involves no proportionate development of the 
feelings or of the will. 

Connection between Knowing, Feeling, and 
Willing. — Yet while knowing, feeling, and willing are 
thus broadly marked off from, and even opposed to, one 



CONNECTION BETWEEN KNOWING, ETC. 37 

another, they are in another way closely connected. A 
mind is not a material object which can be separated into 
distinct parts, but an organic unity made up of parts 
standing in the closest relation of interdependence. If 
we closely examine any case of feeling, we are sure to find 
some intellectual and volitional accompaniments. Thus 
when we experience a bodily pain (feeling), we instantly 
localize the pain or recognize its seat (knowledge), and 
endeavor to alleviate it (volition). Most of our feelings, 
as we shall see, are wrapped up with or embodied in intel- 
lectual states (perceiving, remembering, etc.). Again, 
intellectual operations, observing, thinking, etc., are com- 
monly accompanied by some shade of agreeable or dis- 
agreeable feeling, and they always involve voluntary ac- 
tivity in the shape of attention or concentration of mind. 
Finally, willing depends on feeling for its motive or im- 
pelling force, and on knowledge for its illumination or 
guidance. 

It will be seen from this that our threefold division of 
mind is a division according to the fundamentally distinct 
aspects which predominate at different times. Thus by 
intellectual states or processes we mean those modes of 
mental activity in which the cognitive function is most 
marked and prominent. 

This fact of the invariable concomitance of the three 
mental functions is of capital importance to the teacher. 
Misled by our habits of analysis, and our abstract ways of 
thinking, we are apt to suppose that in training the intel- 
lectual faculties we may disregard the emotional and voli- 
tional element altogether. But a deeper insight into the 
organic unity of mind corrects this error. One great law 
governing our intellectual activity is that we attend to 
what interests us, that is, to what excites feeling in some 
way and, through this, arouses the energies of the will. 
And just as educators have sometimes failed to make the 
best of children's intellectual powers, by overlooking the 



38 KNOWING, FEELING, AND WILLING. 

necessary accompaniments of feeling and will, so they 
have failed to develop the highest type of will and char- 
acter, because they have not recognized the dependence 
of this on a certain mode of intelligence, and on the de- 
velopment of particular emotions. 

Species of Knowing, Feeling-, and Willing : 
Mental Faculties. — Popular psychology recognizes cer- 
tain divisions or species of knowing, feeling, and willing 
under the head of faculties, capabilities, or powers. More 
particularly we speak of intellectual faculties such as 
perception and imagination ; emotional capacities, or sus- 
ceptibilities, as love, anger ; and 2iZl\vQ powers and dispo- 
sitions, such as movement, choice, industry. 

These distinctions are valid so far as they go. The 
psychologist allows that perceiving and remembering differ 
in certain important respects. The first operation con- 
tains elements (e. g., actual sense-impressions) which the 
second does not contain. Thus there is a real psychologi- 
cal distinction involved, and the psychologist will find it 
here as elsewhere convenient to make this popularly recog- 
nized distinction the starting-point in a scientific treatment 
of the phenomena of mind. 

In adopting, these popular distinctions, however, the 
psychologist must not be taken to imply that the several 
processes of perceiving, remembering, etc., are distinct one 
from the other fundamentally, that is to say, with respect 
to their elementary parts. While we set out with these 
well-marked divisions of faculty, we seek to discover by a 
deeper psychological analysis certain more fundamental 
or primary distinctions, and to regard such diiferences 
as those between perceiving and remembering as second- 
ary. 

Primary Intellectual Functions.— The essential 
operation in all varieties of knowing is the detecting of 
relations between things. I know a tree, a period of 
English history, a demonstration in Euclid, when I know 



INDIVIDUAL DIFFERENCES. 39 

its several parts in relation one to another, and also its 
relations as a whole to other things. The most compre- 
hensive relations are difference or unlikeness and agree- 
ment or likeness. All knowing means discriminating one 
impression, object, or idea from another (or others), and 
assimilating it to yet another (or others). I perceive an 
object as a rose only when I distinguish its several parts 
and features one from another ; and when, further, I see 
how it differs from other objects, and more especially 
other varieties of flower, and at the same time recognize 
its likeness to other roses previously seen. And so of 
other forms of knowing. Hence, discrimination and as- 
similation may be viewed as the primary functions of 
intellect. 

While these two primary functions constitute the main factor 
in intellectual operations, the exercise of them presupposes other 
capabilities. Thus the power of taking apart the objects presented 
to the mind, and confining the attention to certain details or particu- 
lars (analysis), together with the supplementary power of mentally 
grasping a number of objects together at the same time (synthesis), is 
clearly implied in all knowing. This power will be dealt with under 
the head of attention. In addition to this, there is the mind's capaci- 
ty of retention, that is, of conserving past impressions and recalling 
them for future use. Unless we could thus retain impressions, we 
should be unable to bring together before the mind facts lying in 
different regions of our experience, and so discover their relations. 
Moreover, the abiding knowledge of any subject plainly implies the re- 
tention of what we have learned. 

Individual Differences of Mental Capability.— 

The several mental operations do not present themselves 
in precisely the same manner in all minds. They vary 
in certain respects, and these variations are referred to 
differences of mental power or capacity. Now, as we 
have seen, psychology as science has to do with the gen- 
eral facts and truths of mind. It takes no account of 
individual peculiarities. Nevertheless, the practical im- 
portance of estimating individual differences has led psy- 



40 KNOWING, FEELING, AND WILLING. 

chologists to pay considerable attention to this concrete 
branch of their subject. And the foregoing analysis of 
mental functions prepares the way for a scientific classifi- 
cation of individual differences. 

There are different ways in which individual minds 
vary. Thus, one mind may differ from another in respect 
of one whole phase or side. For example, we speak of one 
child as more intellectual or more inquiring than another. 
Similarly, one child is said to have more emotional sus- 
ceptibility or more active impulse or will than another. 

Again, we may make our comparison more narrow, 
and observe how one mind differs from another with re- 
spect to a special mode of intellectual (or other) activity. 
Thus, to find that individuals vary in respect of one of the 
primary intellectual functions, that one has a finer sense 
of difference or a keener sense of resemblance than an- 
other. Or, once more, we may vote and record differ- 
ences in the strength of some particular faculty, as obser- 
vation, or reason. Or, lastly, we may distinguish yet 
more narrowly, comparing individuals with respect to 
some special mode of operation of a faculty, as perception 
of form, or memory for words. 

In like manner we can distinguish between different 
degrees of strength of a special emotion, as anger or affec- 
tion, or of a particular active endowment, as endurance. 

All the innumerable differences which characterize in- 
dividual minds must ultimately resolve themselves into 
these modes. The problem of measuring these individual 
differences with something like scientific exactness will 
occupy us later on. 

Truths or Laws of Mind. — The classification of 
mental states prepares the way for ascertaining the gen- 
eral truths of mind. The most comprehensive of these 
truths are known as laws of mind. These laws aim at 
setting forth in the most general form the way in which 
mental states are connected one with another, and particu- 



CONDITIONS OF KNOWING, FEELING, ETC. 41 

larly the way in which they succeed and act upon one an- 
other. The law that governs any mental operation unfolds 
the circumstances necessary to its accomplishment, in 
other words, its causal antecedents or conditions. It thus 
helps us to explain or account for the operation in any 
particular case. 

Here, too, mental science is seeking to improve on pop- 
ular psychology ; for observation has long since taught 
men that mental products, such as knowledge and charac- 
ter, presuppose certain antecedent circumstances and in- 
fluences. This is seen in the common sayings about mind 
and character, such as " Experience is the best teacher," 
" Love is blind," " First impressions last longest," etc. 

General Conditions of Mental Activity.— Some 
of these laws of mind embody the general conditions of 
mental operations, whether those of feeling, knowing, or 
willing. Reference has already been made to the com- 
mon physiological conditions of mental operations, viz., a 
vigorous state of the brain, etc. Among general mental 
conditions, attention is by far the most important. Atten- 
tion is presupposed alike in all clear knowing, vivid feel- 
ing, and energetic willing. The laws of attention, to be 
spoken of presently, are thus in a manner laws of mind as 
a whole. 

Conditions of Knowing, Feeling, and Willing. 
— Next to these universal conditions, there are the more 
special ones of knowing, of feeling, and of willing. Thus 
the laws of mental reproduction, or the revival of impres- 
sions, are in a peculiar manner laws of intellect. Similar- 
ly, there are laws of feeling which seek to formulate the 
conditions of pleasure and pain, as well as the effects of 
feeling on the thoughts and beliefs. Finally, we have 
special laws of willing, as, for example, that action varies 
with the intensity of motive force applied, that proximate 
satisfactions excite the will more powerfully than remote 
ones. It is to be added that in assigning the special con- 



42 KNOWING, FEELING, AND WILLING. 

ditions of feeling, knowing, and willing, we should refer 
to the particular nervous structures engaged, so far as 
these are known. 

As truths of mind still more special, we have the enu- 
meration of the several conditions of a particular variety of 
operation, such as the intellectual act of observation or 
imagination. This gives us the law of operation of that 
particular faculty. Thus we explain or account for ob- 
servation by specifying its conditions, external and internal, 
such as the favorable position of the object, some special 
interest in it, etc. Here, too, we must include in our sur- 
vey the regions of the nervous system specially engaged. 

As already observed, this enumeration of co-operating 
conditions must in certain cases embrace remote as well 
as immediate antecedents. Thus, to account for a recol- 
lection, we need to refer not only to the suggestive forces 
acting at the time, but also to the influence of past ex- 
perience in associating that which suggests with that which 
it suggests. 

For a complete understanding of the way in which any 
variety of mental product arises, we need to take into ac- 
count the action of the whole mental state at the time, so 
far as it is favorable or unfavorable. Thus, calmness of 
mind, freedom from emotional excitement, and preoccu- 
pation of the attention, is an important negative condition 
of the more difficult intellectual processes. 

Finally, among the conditions of a perfect discharge 
of any mental function we presuppose a mind in which 
this power is strong and well developed. And it is often 
well to specify this. Thus, in setting forth the conditions 
of retention under any of its forms, such as the recollection 
of colors or places, we may specify a good natural reten- 
tive power in that particular direction. 

Importance of understanding the Conditions of 
Mental Activity. — The understanding of the laws that 
control the various forms of mental activity is a matter of 



IMPORTANCE OF UNDERSTANDING. 



43 



special consequence to the teacher. As already observed, 
we can only bring about any intellectual or other mental 
product when we see clearly into the conditions on which 
it depends. The educator, in seeking to exercise some 
faculty, say observation, is coming into a certain rapport 
with the pupil's mind. This relation is not like that of an 
external mechanical force to a passive material, as clay or 
sealing-wax. The teacher only succeeds in doing any- 
thing when he calls forth the learner's own mental activity. 
The very idea of stimulating the mind implies that the 
external agent calls forth a mental reaction, that is, ex- 
cites the mind to its appropriate form of activity. Hence, 
the teacher needs to have, at the outset, the clearest knowl- 
edge as to what this activity is, and what laws it uniformly 
obeys. Thus, for example, he requires to understand what 
the mind really does when it thoroughly grasps and assimi- 
lates a new truth. 

In the process of stimulating the mind the teacher ne- 
cessarily employs certain agencies, and it is of the greatest 
importance that he rightly understand their precise effect 
in furthering the mental activity he would excite. Thus, 
in giving a child verses to commit to memory, he should 
know to what extent and in what precise manner this em- 
ployment exercises the memory. And this he can only do 
when he has a clear scientific insight into the nature of the 
faculty and the laws of its operation. It is of great im- 
portance, too, that he should understand in what ways his 
appliances are liable to be counteracted by other influ- 
ences, such as an unfavorable state of the pupil's mind at 
the moment. 

In the appliances brought to bear by the educator there 
are two things to be distinguished : first of all, the material 
supply on which the pupil's mind is to exercise itself ; and, 
secondly, the motive force brought to bear in order to in- 
duce the learner to apply his mind to the subject. A wise 
choice of material presupposes a certain knowledge of the 



44 KNOWING, FEELING, AND WILLING. 

intellectual faculties, and the laws which govern their op- 
eration. A wise selection of motive presupposes no less 
accurate a knowledge of the laws that rule in the domain 
of the feelings and the will. 

APPENDIX. 

The reader who desires to read further on the threefold division 
of mind is referred to my " Outlines of Psychology," chap, ii, and Ap- 
pendix B ; also, to the works of Sir W. Hamilton and Dr. Bain, there 
quoted. 



CHAPTER V. 

MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 

Mental Development defined.— In the last chapter 
we were concerned with ascertaining the nature and con- 
ditions of the several kinds of mental operation, without 
any reference to the time of life at which they occur. But 
mental operations differ greatly in different periods of life, 
owing to what we call the growth or development of faculty 
or capacity. We have now to consider this far-reaching 
process of mental growth. We shall seek to distinguish 
between the successive stages of mental life, and point out 
how these are related one to the other. By so doing we 
may hope to account not merely for the single operations 
of a faculty, but for the mature faculty itself, viewed as 
the result of a process of growth. This part of our subject 
constitutes the theory of mental development. 

When speaking of the physical organism, we distin- 
guish between growth and development. The former is 
mere increase of size or bulk; the latter consists of 
structural changes (increase of complexity). While growth 
and development usually run on together, there is no 
proper parallelism between them. Thus, in abnormal 
growth, development is hindered. And an organ, as the 
brain, may develop long after it has ceased to grow. It is 
possible to apply this analogy to mind. We may say that 
mind grows when it increases its stock of materials. It 
develops in so far as its materials are elaborated into 
5 



46 MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 

higher and more complex forms. Mere growth of mind 
would thus be illustrated by an increase in the bulk of 
mental retentions, that is, in the contents of memory : de- 
velopment, by the ordering of these contents in their re- 
lations of difference and likeness, and so on. But in 
general the two terms, mental growth and mental develop- 
ment, may be used as interchangeable. 

The characteristics of mental development are best 
seen in the case of the intellect. The growth of knowl- 
edge may be viewed in different ways : (i) Under one 
aspect it is a gradual progress from vague to distinct 
knowledge. The perceptions and ideas grow more defi- 
nite. This may be called intellectual differentiation. (2) 
Again, it is a progress from simple to complex processes. 
There is a continual grouping or integration of elements 
into organic compounds. In this way the child's knowl- 
edge of whole localities, of series of events, and so forth, 
arises. (3) Once more, it is a continual movement from 
external sense to internal thought or reflection. Or, as it 
is commonly described, it is a transition from \he presenta- 
tive, or what is directly presented to the mind through 
sense, to the representative ^ that which is indirectly set 
before the mind by the aid of internal ideas. (4) Lastly, 
this progress from sense to thought is a transition from 
the knowledge of individuals to that of general classes, or 
from a knowledge of concrete things to that of their ab- 
stract qualities,* 

This aggregate of changes, which constitutes the growth 
of mind, appears to resolve itself into two parts. On the 
one hand we see that the several faculties which operate 
in the case of the child have expanded and increased in 
vigor. On the other hand we notice that new faculties, 

* Reference is made here only to knowledge of outer things. As 
will be seen by-and-by, the growth of self-knowledge illustrates the 
same movement from outer sense to internal reflection, from the con- 
crete to the abstract. 



ORDER OF DEVELOPMENT OF FACULTIES. 



A7 



the germs of which are hardly discoverable in the child, 
have acquired strength. We see, that is to say, that while 
the faculties have each grown singly, there has been a 
certain order of unfolding among them, so that some have 
reached mature vigor before others. 

Growth of Faculty. — The growth or improvement 
of a faculty includes three things, or may be regarded 
under three aspects : (i) Old operations become more 
perfect, and also more easy and rapid. Thus the recog- 
nition of an individual object, as a person's face, as also 
the recalling of it when absent, tends to become more dis- 
tinct, as well as easier, with the repetition of the opera- 
tion. This is improvement of a faculty in a definite 
direction. (2) New operations of a similar grade of com- 
plexity will also grow easier. Thus the improvement of 
the observing powers (perception) includes a growing 
facility in noting and recognizing unfamiliar objects ; that 
of memory includes a greater readiness in retaining and 
recalling new impressions. This is improvement of a 
faculty generally. (3) This general improvement is com- 
pleted by the attainment of the capability of executing 
more complex, intricate, and difficult operations. Thus 
the growth of memory means the progress of the capa- 
bility as shown in retaining and recalling less striking im- 
pressions and larger and more complex groups of impres- 
sions. 

Order of Development of Faculties.— One of the 
most valuable doctrines of modern psychology is that 
there is a uniform order of development of the faculties. 
There is a well-marked order in the growth of intellect, 
(i) The process of attaining knowledge sets out with 
sensation, or the reception of external impressions by the 
mind. Sense supplies the materials which the intellect 
assimilates and elaborates according to its own laws. 
Before we can know anything about the material objects 
which surround us they must impress our mind through 



48 MENTAL DEVELOPMENT, 

the senses (sight, touch, hearing, etc.). (2) Sensation is 
followed by perception, in which a number of impressions 
are grouped together under the form of a percept, or an 
immediate apprehension of some thing or object, as when 
we see and recognize an orange or a bell. (3) After per- 
ception comes representative imagination, in which the 
mind pictures, or has an image of, what has been per- 
ceived. It may represent this either in the original form 
(reproductive imagination), as when we recall the face of 
a friend ; or in a new form (constructive imagination), as 
when we imagine some historical personage. (4) Finally, 
.we have general or abstract knowing, otherwise marked 
off as thinking. This includes conception, or the forma- 
tion of concepts or general notions out of percepts and 
images, such as "metal," "organism," "life," and so on ; 
judgment, or the combination of concepts, as when we 
assert that no men are omniscient ; and reasoning, or the 
combination of judgments, as when we conclude that a 
particular writer, say a journalist, is not omniscient, be- 
cause no men are so. 

Unity of Intellectual Development.— It has already 
been pointed out that modern psychology seeks to reduce 
the several operations of perception, imagination, etc., to 
certain fundamental processes, of which discrimination 
and assimilation are the most important. By help of this 
deeper analysis of intellectual activity we are able to re- 
gard the successive unfoldings of the faculties as one con- 
tinuous process. The higher and more complex opera- 
tions of thought now appear as only different modes of 
the same fundamental functions of intellect that underlie 
the lower and simpler operations of sense-perception. 
Thus the simplest germ of knowing involves the discrimi- 
nation of sense-impression ; and the highest form of know- 
ing, abstract thinking, is a higher manifestation of the 
same power. Again, the perception of a single object is a 
process of assimilating present to past impressions ; and 



GROWTH AND EXERCISE OF FACULTY. 49 

abstract thinking is assimilating or classing many objects 
under certain common aspects. We may thus say that 
the several stages of knowing, viz., perception, conception, 
and so on, illustrate the same fundamental activities of 
intellect employed about more and more complex mate- 
rials (sensations, percepts, ideas, etc.). 

We thus see that there are no breaks in the process of 
intellectual development. It is one continuous process, 
from its simplest to its most complex phase. The distinc- 
tions between perception, imagination, etc., though of great 
practical convenience, as roughly marking the successive 
stages of growth, must not be taken as answering to sharp 
divisions. The movement of intellectual progress is not 
a series of separate leaps, but one unbroken and even 
movement. 

Growth and Exercise of Faculty.— The great law 
underlying these processes of development is that the 
faculties or functions of intellect are strengthened by ex- 
ercise. Thus the power of observation (perception), of 
detecting differences among colors, forms, and so on, im- 
proves by the repeated exercise of this power. Each suc- 
cessive operation tends to improve the faculty, and more 
particularly in the particular direction in which it is exer- 
cised. Thus, if the power of observation is exercised with 
respect to colors, it will be strengthened more especially 
in this direction, but not to the same extent in other di- 
rections, e. g., with respect to forms. 

Again, since perception, conception, and so forth, are 
only different modes of the same intellectual functions, the 
exercise of these in the lower form prepares the way for 
the higher manifestations. Thus, in training the senses, 
we are calling into play the power of analyzing a complex 
whole into its parts, also the functions of discrimination 
and assimilation, and so are laying the foundations of the 
higher intellectual culture. On the other hand, we must 
not suppose that by merely exercising the observing powers 



50 



MENTAL DEVELOPMENT, 



we can secure a development of the powers of abstract 
thought. In order that the successive phases of intelli- 
gence may unfold themselves, the separate exercise of the 
fundamental functions in each of these phases is necessary. 
That is to say, we require a special training for each of the 
faculties in due order. 

Growth and Retentiveness. — This growth of intel- 
lect by exercise implies retentiveness. By this term, in its 
widest signification, is meant that every operation of mind 
leaves a trace behind it, which constitutes a disposition to 
perform the same operation or same kind of operation 
again. This truth obviously underlies the generalization, 
" Exercise strengthens faculty." The increased power of 
observation, for example, due to repeated exercises of the 
faculty, can only be accounted for by saying that each 
successive exercise modifies the mind, adding to its capa- 
bility of acting, and strengthening its tendency to act in 
that particular mode. 

Growth and Habit. — This persistence of traces, and 
formation of a disposition to think, feel, etc., in the same 
way as before underlies what we call habit. By this term, 
in its most comprehensive sense, is meant a fixed tendency 
to think, feel, or act in a particular way under special cir- 
cumstances. The formation of habits is a very important 
ingredient of what we mean by intellectual development ; 
but it is not all that is so meant. Habit refers rather to 
the fixing of mental operations in particular directions. 
Taken in this narrow sense, habit is in a manner opposed 
to growth. By following out a train of ideas again and 
again in a certain way, we lose the capability of varying 
this order, of re-adapting the combination to new circum- 
stances. Habit is thus the element of persistence, of cus- 
tom, the co7tservative tendency; whereas growth implies 
flexibility, modifiability, susceptibility to new impressions, 
\)i\^ progressive tendency. We shall again and again have 
to distinguish between the effect of habit, as understood in 



GROUPING OF PARTS. 5 1 

this narrow sense, and development in the full sense, as a 
wide or many-sided progress. The importance of the 
principle of habit will be illustrated more especially in the 
domain of action.* 

In order that the intellectual powers as a whole may be 
exercised and grow, a higher form of retentiveness is 
needed. The traces of the products of intellectual activity 
must accumulate and appear under the form of revivals or 
reproductions. The impressions of sense, when discrimi- 
nated, are in this way recalled as mental images. This 
retention and revival of the products of the early sense- 
discrimination is clearly necessary to the higher operations 
of thought. Images, though the product of elementary 
processes of discrimination and assimilation, supply in 
their turn the material for the more elaborate processes of 
thought. We thus see that the growing complexity of the 
intellectual life depends on the accumulation of innumer- 
able traces of past and simpler products of intellectual 
activity. 

Grouping of Parts: Laws of Association.— 
Closely connected with this fundamental property of re- 
tentiveness, there is another involved in this process of 
intellectual development. The growth of intellect, as we 
have seen, leads to an increasing complexity of the prod- 
ucts. This means that the several elements are com- 
bined or grouped in certain ways. This grouping goes on 
according to the laws of association. These laws will be 
fully discussed by-and-by. Here it is enough to say that 
there are two principal modes of grouping, and corre- 

* The term habit is commonly confined to actions which have grown 
customary, and so mechanical. But the principle of habit is illustrated 
in each of the three directions of mental development. Some writers 
distinguish between passive habits, the effects of custom on feeling, and 
active habits, its effects on action. In connection with education, Locke 
uses the term habit generally as expressing the result of practice. See 
"Thoughts concerning Education," edited by Rev. R. H. Quick; In- 
troduction, p. liv. 



52 MENTAL DEVELOPMENT, 

spending laws of association of mental elements, (a) 
according to their nearness or contiguity in time, and {h) 
according to their similarity. The first mode will be the 
one principally illustrated in the earlier stages of develop- 
ment (perception and imagination) ; the second, the one 
mainly concerned in the later stages (thought). 

Development of Feeling and Willing. — While, for 
the sake of simplicity, we have confined our attention to 
the development of intellect, it is necessary to add that the 
same features and the same underlying principles are dis- 
coverable in the growth of feeling and will. The earlier 
feelings (bodily pleasures and pains) are simple and 
closely connected with the senses : the higher feelings 
(emotions) are complex and representative in character. 
Again, the first actions (bodily movements) are simple and 
external, being immediate responses to sense-impressions, 
whereas the later are complex, internal and representative 
(choosing, resolving, etc.). It will be found, further, that 
there is a continuity of process throughout the develop- 
ment of each. And the same laws or conditions, growth 
by exercise, retentiveness and association, are illustrated 
here as in the case of intellectual development. 

Interdependence of Processes. — We have so far 
viewed the growth of intellect, of feeling, and of volition as 
processes going on apart, independently of one another. 
And this is in a measure a correct assumption. It has, 
however, already been pointed out that mind is an organic 
unity, and that the processes of knowing, feeling, and will- 
ing in a measure involve one another. It follows from this 
that the developments of these phases of mind will be 
closely connected. Thus, intellectual development presup- 
poses a certain measure of emotional and volitional devel- 
opment. There would be no attainments in knowledge if 
the connected interest (curiosity, love of knowledge) and 
active impulses (concentration, application) had not been 
developed. Similarly, there can be no development of the 



GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT. 53 

life of feeling without a considerable accumulation of 
knowledge about Nature and man ; nor can there be 
any development of action without a development of feel- 
ing and the accumulation of a store of practical knowl- 
edge. The mind may develop much more on one side 
than on the others, but development on one side without 
any development on the others is an impossibility. 

This connectedness of one side of development with 
the others may be illustrated in the close dependence of 
intellectual growth on the exercise and improvement of 
the power of attention. Though related to the active or 
volitional side of mind, attention is a prime condition of 
intellectual operations. Mental activity includes in every 
case some form of attention ; and the higher kinds of 
mental activity illustrate the full exercise of the will in 
the shape of an effort of concentration. This being so, 
intellectual growth, which, as we have seen, is the imme- 
diate outcome of mental activity, is closely dependent on 
the development of will. It is the improvement of the 
power of voluntary concentration which makes success- 
ively possible accurate observation, steady reproduction, 
and all that we mean by thinking. 

This dependence of one phase of mental development 
on the other phases is not, however, equally close in all 
cases. Thus the growth of knowing involves compara- 
tively little of the emotional and volitional element. The 
growth of feeling in its higher forms involves considerable 
intellectual development, but no corresponding degree of 
volitional development. Finally, the growth of will is 
largely dependent on that of knowing and feeling. Hence, 
in the order of exposition, we set out with the development 
of knowing, passing then to that of feeling, and finally to 
that of willing. 

Growth and Development of the Brain.—Just as, 
in studying mental operations at a particular time, we 
have to include in our view nervous concomitants, so in 



54 



MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 



studying mental de/elopment we must ask what changes 
in the nervous organism, and more particularly in the 
brain-centers, accompany these psychical changes. 

The brain, like all other parts of the organism, grows in 
bulk or size, and develops or manifests certain changes in 
its formation or structure, viz. : increasing unlikeness of 
parts and intricacy of arrangements among these. The 
two processes, growth and development, do not progress 
with the same degree of rapidity. The size nearly attains 
its maximum about the end of the seventh year, whereas 
the degree of structural development reached at this time 
is not much above that of the embryonic condition.* It 
may be added that the higher centers of thought and vo- 
lition develop later than those of sensation. 

The brain, being an organ closely connected with the 
rest of the bodily organism, would tend to grow to a cer- 
tain extent with the growth of the organism as a whole, 
and independently of any activity of its own. But such 
growth would be rudimentary only. Like all other organs, 
it grows and develops by exercise. This physiological 
law is clearly the counterpart of the psychological law that 
exercise strengthens faculty. Such exercises tend to 
modify the brain structures in some way, so as to dis- 
pose them afterward to act more readily in the same man- 
ner. 

Factors in Development. — The process of mental 
growth just traced out is brought about by the co-opera- 
tion of two sets of agencies or factors — the mind itself 
which develops, and the circumstances necessary to its 
development. These may be marked off as the internal 
and the external factor. 

(A) Internal Factor. — This consists first of all of 

the simple and fundamental capabilities of the mind. 

Thus it includes the several simple modes of sensibility 

to light, sound, and so on. Further, it embraces the fun- 

* See Bastian, " The Brain as an Organ of Mind," p. 375. 



THE SOCIAL ENVIRONMENT. 



55 



damental intellectual functions, discrimination, and assim- 
ilation. In like manner it will include the primary or 
fundamental capacities of feeling, and powers of willing. 
The internal factor includes, too, the mind's native im- 
pulse to activity and spontaneous tendency to develop- 
ment. 

(B) External Factor, (i) Natural Environ- 
ment. — In the second place, the development of an indi- 
vidual mind implies the presence and co-operation of the 
external factor, or the environment. By this we mean, in 
the first place, the physical environment or natural sur- 
roundings. The growth of intelligence presupposes a 
world of sights and sounds, etc., to supply the materials 
of knowledge. The mind of a child deprived of these 
would languish for want of its appropriate nutriment. 
Similarly, the development of the feelings, for example, of 
fear, awe, the sense of beauty, etc., depends on the pres- 
ence and action of natural objects. Finally, the will is 
called forth to activity by the action of the forces of the 
natural environment, and by the need of reacting on it 
and modifying it. 

(2) The Social Environment. — In addition to 
what we commonly call the natural or physical environ- 
ment, there is the human and social environment. By this 
we mean the society of which the individual is a member, 
with which he holds certain relations, and by which he is 
profoundly influenced. The social medium, like the phys- 
ical, affects the individual mind through sense-impres- 
sions (sights and sounds) ; yet its action differs from that 
of the natural surroundings in being a moral influence. It 
works through the forces which bind the individual to 
other individuals and to the community, such as imita- 
tion, sympathy, and the sentiment of obedience or author- 
ity. 

The presence of a social medium is necessary to a full 
normal development of mind. If it were possible to main- 



56 M-ENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 

tain a child in bodily health and at the same time deprive 
him of all companionship, his mental development would be 
but rudimentary. The child comes under the stimulation, 
the guidance, and the control of others, and these influ- 
ences are essential to a normal mental development. Thus, 
his intellectual growth is determined by continual contact 
and interaction with the social intelligence, the body of 
knowledge amassed by the race, and expressed in every- 
day speech, in books, etc. Similarly, the feelings of the 
child quicken and grow under the touch of social senti- 
ment. And finally the will is called forth, stimulated and 
guided by the habitual modes of action of those about him. 
These social influences embrace a wider area as life pro- 
gresses. Beginning with the action of the family, they go 
on expanding by including the influences of the school, of 
companions, and finally of the whole community, as work- 
ing through manners, public opinion, and so forth. 

Undesigned and Designed Influence of Society. 
— A part of this social influence acts undesignedly, that 
is, without any intention to accomplish a result. The ef- 
fects of contact of mind with mind, of example, of the pre- 
vailing tone of a family or a society, all this resembles the 
action of natural or physical agencies. On the other hand, 
a considerable remainder of this influence is clearly de- 
signed. To this part belong all the mechanism of instruc- 
tion, the arts of suasion, moral and legal control, etc. 

Both kinds of social influence co-operate in each of the 
three great phases of mental development. Thus the in- 
tellect of a child grows partly under the influence of con- 
tact with the social intelligence reflecting itself in the 
structure of language ; and partly by the aid of systematic 
instruction. Similarly, feeling develops partly through the 
mere contact with other minds, or the agencies of sympa- 
thy, and partly by direct appeals from others. Finally, 
the will develops partly by the attraction of example and 
the impulses of imitation, and partly by the forces of sua- 



VARIETIES OF DEVELOPMENT. 



57' 



sion, advice, reproof, and the whole system of moral dis- 
cipline. 

Scheme of Development.— The reader may perhaps 
be able the better to comprehend the above rough theory 
of mental development by help of the following diagram : 



Fig. 4. 




Varieties of Development.— While all normally 
constituted minds pass through the same typical course of 
development, there are endless differences in the details 
of the mental history of individuals. In no two cases, 
indeed, is the process of mental growth precisely similar. 
These diversities of mental history answer to the differ- 
ences between mind and mind spoken of in the previous 
chapter. Such differences of development may be referred 
to one or two causes of factors : (a) variations or inequali- 
6 



58 MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 

ties of original capacity, or (^) differences in the external 
circumstances, physical and social. All differences in the 
final result, that is, the mature or developed aptitude or 
capacity, must be assignable to one (or both) cf these fac- 
tors. 

It is important to observe that differences of original 
capacity include all inequalities in mental energy and 
capability of development. As every teacher knows, the 
instruments of education applied to two children, at ap- 
proximately the same level of attainment, result in widely 
unlike amounts of progress. Such inequalities in capa- 
bility of mental growth turn mainly on differences in the 
degree of mental activity, and, next to this, on different 
degrees of retentive power. 

Differences of Original Capacity. — In ascertaining 
these we must be careful to separate off only what is 
strictly original, and not in any measure the result of pre- 
vious training or other kind of external influence. Now, 
we can not altogether eliminate the effect of early influ- 
ences ; yet we can reduce this to a minimum by taking 
the child soon enough, or by selecting for our experiment 
a sufficiently new mode of mental operation. 

Such a method of comparative measurement applied 
to young children would undoubtedly confirm the every- 
day observation of parents and teachers alike, that chil- 
dren are at birth endowed with very unequal degrees of 
capacity of different kinds. Each individual has his par- 
ticular proportion of aptitudes and tendencies, which con- 
stitute his nature or his natural character, as distinguished 
from his later and partly acquired character. This nat- 
ural character is doubtless very closely connected with 
the peculiar make of his bodily, and more particularly his 
nervous organism. The condition of the sense-organs, of 
the brain, of the muscular system, and even of the lower 
vital organs, all serves to determine what we call the na- 
tive idiosyncrasy or temperament of the individual. 



COMMON AND SPECIAL HEREDITY. 59 

The Law of Heredity. — According to modern sci- 
ence these original differences are, in part at least, illustra- 
tions of the principle of heredity. This principle states 
that physical and mental peculiarities tend to be trans- 
mitted from parents to children. Just as bodily features 
reappear in parents and children, so intellectual and moral 
traits persist in the shape of inherited mental dispositions. 
These are handed down in connection with certain pecul- 
iarities of the brain and nervous system. 

Common and Special Heredity. — The principle of 
heredity manifests itself in different ways. In one sense 
we may say that our common human nature, with its 
typical physical organism and its several mental suscepti- 
bilities and capabilities, is inherited, that is, transmitted 
to each new member of the species. But, as customarily 
employed, the term heredity refers to the transmission of 
physical or mental peculiarities which have somehow 
been acquired by the individual's ancestors. This trans- 
mission of acquired characteristics assumes a wider or 
a narrower form. Its widest range is seen in the alleged 
fact that the offspring of civilized races have from the first 
a higher intellectual and moral endowment than those of 
uncivilized, having certain original or instinctive disposi- 
tions to think, feel, and act in the ways that have become 
habitual with civiHzed mankind. According to this view, 
as civilization progresses and education improves, native 
capacity tends to slowly increase, and this gradual increase 
constitutes one factor in the upward progress of the spe- 
cies. Again, members of one particular race or national- 
ity, as Celts or Frenchmen, appear to inherit distinct phys- 
ical and mental traits. Still more plainly the members 
of one family may often be observed to present similar 
mental as well as bodily characteristics through a number 
of generations. These mental peculiarities are partly in- 
tellectual, partly emotional, and partly active, referring to 
differences in strength of will, etc. An interesting exam- 



6o MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 

pie of this is occasionally to be met with in the transmis- 
sion of a definite kind of talent through generations of a 
given family, as, for example, of musical talent in the Bach 
family.* 

It is evident, however, that the members of one family 
show marked diversities as well as similarities. We often 
remark very striking contrasts of ideas, feelings, and incli- 
nations among children of the same family. Such con- 
trasts may sometimes be only another illustration of the 
action of heredity, some members of the family represent- 
ing certain ancestral traits, other members, other traits. 
But this can not be safely maintained in the majority of 
instances. In the present stage of our knowledge of the 
subject, heredity only helps us to account for a compara- 
tively few among the host of peculiarities which go to 
make up the natural basis of an individual character. We 
have to recognize along with this another tendency, namely, 
to individual variation. 

Varieties of External Influence. — While original 
peculiarities of nature or temperament thus play a consid- 
erable part in individual development, they are not the 
sole agency at work. Differences in the surroundings, 
physical and still more social, have a good deal to do with 
the differences of ability and character that we find among 
individuals. 

The important thing to bear in mind here is that no 
two individuals ever come under the same influences. 
Even twins, who are born into the same family at the same 
time, have an unlike social environment from the first. 
Their own mother is hardly likely to feel toward them or 
to treat them in quite the same way ; and others show this 
divergence of feeling and behavior very much more. As 
life progresses, the sum of external influences, serving to 

* For fuller illustrations of such transmission of definite ability, see 
Mr. F. Galton's work, " Hereditary Genius " ; cf. Prof. Th. Ribot's 
volume, "On Heredity." 



VARIETIES OF EXTERNAL INFLUENCE, 6 1 

differentiate individual character, increases. The school, 
the place of business, the circle of friends, and so on, all 
help to give a peculiar stamp to the individual mind. 

That even such slight differences in surroundings must 
produce an effect follows from psychological laws. The 
mind grows on what it assimilates. The lines of its growth 
will be to some extent predetermined by innate capabili- 
ties and tendencies ; but these only broadly limit the pro- 
cess, they do not fix its precise character. The particular 
ideas and connections of ideas formed, the intellectual 
habits fixed, the peculiar coloring of the feelings, and the 
special lines of the conduct will all be determined by the 
character of the surroundings. 

It is impossible, in the present state of our knowledge, 
to say how much of the diversity of intelligence and char- 
acter that we find among men is referable to native dif- 
ferences, how much to the effects of surroundings, more 
particularly social surroundings. The older psychology 
of Locke overlooked the effects of native differences, of 
individual nature. To Locke all men were born- with 
equal abilities, and the differences were due to experience 
and education. The newer psychology rightly insists on 
the existence of these original differences, on the effects 
of "nature" as distinguished from "nurture."* There 
is no doubt that similar experiences and outer influences 
do not produce precisely identical results. At the same 
time, it is possible that we of to-day are apt to underesti- 

* The importance of original differences of mtellectual aptitude and 
emotional disposition has just been insisted on with great force of argu- 
ment by Mr. F. Galton in his curious volume, " Inquiries into Human 
Faculty and its Development." See '* Nurture and Nature," p. 177, 
etc. An illustration of the strength and pertinacity of original tend- 
encies is very clearly brought out in the " History of Twins," p. 216, et 
seq. Mr. Galton takes cases of twins who were much alike, and also 
of twins who were distinctly unlike, and he seeks to show that in both 
cases the final result is largely determined by nature and not by nur- 
ture. 



62 MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 

mate the effects of surroundings, and more particularly of 
early bringing up. It is true, of course, that there never 
is anything in the finished mental product, the mature 
mind and character, which was not present potentially at 
the outset. It is also true that all growth is the immediate 
outcome of the mind's own exertion and activity. Still, 
it may be said that the special external circumstances of 
the individual life were needed to evoke and nurture these 
latent germs of ability, and to call forth and direct that 
activity. 

It is common to say that men of genius are independ- 
ent of their surroundings, that their powers germinate and 
fructify in spite of unfavorable surroundings. This is true 
in a sense. The stronger the native intellectual bent, the 
more strenuous the mental exertions, the more independ- 
ent is the mind of its surroundings; or, to put it more 
accurately, the more readily will it create a favorable en- 
vironment (companions, books, etc.) for itself. In aver- 
age cases, however, when there is no such powerful and 
predominant impulse, it is the actual surroundings, and 
particularly the early influences of the home and the school, 
which determine which of the potential aptitudes and in- 
clinations shall be fostered into life and vigor. 

The Teacher and the Social Environment. — 
From the foregoing we see that education fulfills an im- 
portant function among the influences presupposed in 
development. The intellectual and moral culture of the 
home constitutes a prime ingredient in the sum of the 
influences of the social environment. The influence of the 
school-teacher, though much more restricted on the emo- 
tional and moral side, is the most important of the external 
stimuli to intellectual progress. As Pestalozzi has pointed 
out, the teacher stands in place of the parent, having to 
carry forward, in a more thorough and systematic manner, 
and to a much higher point than the qualifications and 
the opportunities of the parent commonly allow, the early 



TRAINING OF THE FACULTIES. 63 

intellectual instruction of the home ; and, regarded in this 
light, his work is eminently a natural one, being the out- 
growth of the instinct of instruction which shows itself in 
germ in the lower animals, and in man is inseparately in- 
tertwined with the parental feelings and instincts. Viewed 
in another way, the teacher represents not merely the par- 
ent but the community. This he does by aiming at pre- 
paring the learner in intelligence, and, as far as possible, 
in character, to properly fill his future place in the com- 
munity ; and by bringing to bear for this purpose all the 
resources of the knowledge which has become the heritage 
of the present from the past, as well as a type of character 
which represents as clearly as possible the highest moral 
progress yet attained by man. 

Training of the Faculties. — The systematic pro- 
cedure of the teacher is implied in the word training. 
This involves the putting of the child in such circum- 
stances, and surrounding it by such influences, as will 
serve to call the faculty into exercise, or, as has already 
been pointed out, the supplying of the intellect with ma- 
terials to work upon, or nutriment to be assimilated, to- 
gether with the application of a stimulus or motive to 
exertion. It means, too, the continuous or periodic exer- 
cise of the faculty, with the definite purpose of strengthen- 
ing it, and advancing its growth. 

Such training must clearly be based on a knowledge of 
the laws of mental development. Thus it has to conform 
to the great law of all growth, that it is appropriate exer- 
cise which strengthens faculty. That is to say, it will aim 
directly at calling forth a faculty into its proper mode of 
action by supplying materials and motives adapted to the 
stage of development reached at the time. . Training may 
be said to be adapted when it supplies an adequate but 
not excessive stimulation of the faculty. By adequate 
stimulation is here meant an excitation of sufficient 
strength and variety to secure completeness of growth. A 



64 MENTAL DEVELOPMENT. 

boy's memory or understanding is not properly trained if 
very easy tasks are assigned which fail to rouse the faculty 
to full activity. By excessive stimulation is meant an 
amount of excitation which forces the activity to such a 
point as is unfavorable to growth. Thus, when a boy is 
set to master a problem in Euclid beyond his powers of 
reasoning the task, by baffling effort and confusing the 
mind, is distinctly adverse to intellectual progress. It fol- 
lows that all good training must be progressive, the tasks 
becoming more difficult pari passu with the growth of 
ability. 

In the second place, the whole scheme of training 
should conform to the natural order of development of 
the faculties. Those faculties which develop first must be 
exercised first. It is vain, for example, to try to cultivate 
the power of abstraction, by subjects like grammar, before 
the powers of observation (perception) and imagination 
have reached a certain degree of strength. This self-evi- 
dent proposition is one of the best accepted principles in 
the modern theory of education, though there is reason to 
apprehend that it is still frequently violated in practice. 

Once more, a method of training based on scientific 
principles will aim not only at taking up a faculty at the 
right moment, but also at cultivating it up to the proper 
point, and not beyond this. By this point is meant the 
level which answers to its rank or value in the whole 
scale of faculties. Thus, for example, in training the 
memory or the imagination we should inquire into its 
precise importance in relation to the attainment of knowl- 
edge and intellectual culture as a whole, and give to its 
exercise and development a proportionate amount of 
attention. 

The perfect following out of this principle is that 
harmonious development of the whole mind on which 
Pestalozzi and others have laid emphasis. The educator 
must ever keep before him the ideal of a complete man, 



TRAINING OF THE FACULTIES. 65 

strong and well-developed physically, intellectually, and 
morally, and, so far as practicable, assign a proportionate 
amount of time and exercise to the development of each 
side of the child's being. 

Finally, training, in order to be adequate, must be to 
some extent elastic, adapting itself to the numerous dif- 
ferences among young minds. Up to a certain point a 
common result, namely, a typical completeness of develop- 
ment, will be aimed at. It would not be well, for ex- 
ample, that any child, however unimaginative, should 
have his imagination wholly untrained. At the same 
time this typical plan of cultivation must be modified in 
detail. The greater the natural aptitude, the more eco- 
nomical the production of a given psychical result. Hence 
it would be wasteful to give as much time and thought to 
the training of a bad as of a good germ of faculty. Nor 
do the practical ends of life impose such a disagreeable 
task on the teacher. Variety of individual development 
is in itself valuable, and moreover answers to the highly 
elaborated division of life-work or differentiation of life- 
function which characterizes civilization. The problem of 
respecting individuality in educating the young, of secur- 
ing a sufficient diversity of studies in our school system, 
is probably one of the most urgent practical educational 
problems of the hour. 

APPENDIX. 

For a fuller account of the nature and causes of mental develop, 
ment the reader is referred to Mr. Spencer's " Principles of Psy- 
chology," especially vol i, parts iii and iv. A brief statement of the 
characteristics of development, as bearing on the work of the teacher, 
will be found in Mr. Spencer's essay, "Education," chap. ii. The 
subject has also been discussed from an educational point of view by 
Beneke, '* Erziehu/igslehre," i, p. loi, etc., and by G. F. Pfisterer, 
" Paedagogische Psychologic," § 2. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ATTENTION. 

Place of Attention in Mind. — Attention enters as 
an important condition into all classes of mental opera- 
tion. There is no distinct thinking, no vivid feeling, and 
no deliberate action without attention. This co-operation 
of attention is specially conspicuous in the case of intellect- 
ual operations. The objects which present themselves to 
our senses are only clearly discriminated one from the 
other, and classed as objects of such and such a class, 
when we attend to them. So again, present impressions 
only exercise their full force in calling up what is as- 
sociated with them when we keep them before the mind 
by an act of attention. Once more, all abstract thinking 
is clearly an active state of mind involving a voluntary 
fixing of the attention. We thus see that attention, though 
a form of action, and in its higher developments presup- 
posing an effort of will, stands in the closest relation to 
intellectual operations. It is co-operation of the active 
side of mind in intellectual processes, and it is one of the 
great determining forces of intellectual development. 
This being so, it is desirable to give a brief account of 
it before entering on the exposition of intellect, reserving 
the exposition of its higher forms till we come to consider 
the nature of volition. 

Definition of Attention. — Attention may be roughly 
defined as the active self-direction of the mind to any 



PLACE OF ATTENTION IN MIND, 6/ 

material or object which presents itself to it at the mo- 
ment.* It thus means somewhat the same as the mind's 
*' consciousness " of what is present to it. The field of 
attention, however, is narrower than that of consciousness. 
I may be very vaguely or indistinctly conscious of some 
bodily sensation, as hunger, of some haunting recollection, 
and so on, without making it the object of attention. At- 
tention involves an intensification of consciousness, a con- 
centration or narrowing of it on some definite and re- 
stricted portion of the mental scene ; or, to express it 
otherwise, it implies a turning of the mental eye in a par- 
ticular direction so as to see the objects lying in that 
quarter as distinctly as possible, f 

As an active tension of mind, attention is opposed to 
that relaxed state of mind in which there is no conscious 
exertion to fix the gaze on any particular object. This 
answers to what the teacher is wont to call inattention. 
It is a state of listlessness or drowsiness as compared with 
one of activity and wakefulness. 

Directions of Attention. — Attention follows one of 
two main directions ; that is, is directed to one of two 
great fields of objects, (i) The first region is that of ex- 
ternal impressions, the sights, sounds, etc., which make 
up the world of sense. When the teacher talks about 
"attending," he commonly means actively listening, or 
actively looking. This is the direction of attention out- 
ward, or external attention. (2) In addition to external 
impressions, internal images, ideas and thoughts, may be 
attended to. This constitutes the second main direction 
of attention, or internal attention. All intellectual atten- 

* The reader must be careful to distinguish between " object of 
attention" and "external object," as we commonly understand it. As 
we shall see presently, the former, though including the latter, is a 
much wider domain than this. 

•j" The idea of mental activity in the full sense, or mental tension, is 
directly suggested by the etymology of the word, ad tenderer to stretch 
(sc, the mind toward). 



68 ATTENTION. 

tion, that is to say, attention engaged in the processes of 
learning or coming to know about things, is attention 
directed either to external impressions or to internal 
ideas. So far as we attend to feelings of pleasure and 
pain we appear to do so by fixing the attention on the ex- 
citing cause of the feeling, which must be either an exter- 
nal object or an internal idea. Finally, in attending to 
our actions, we fix our minds on the idea of the result 
which we are immediately aiming at. Thus, in every 
case, the object of attention is some external impression, 
or internal idea, or thought. 

Effects of Attention. — The immediate effect of an 
act of attention serves to give greater force, vividness, and 
distinctness to its object. Thus an impression of sound, as 
the tolling of a bell, becomes more forcible, and has its 
character made more definite, when we direct our atten- 
tion to it. A thought, a recollection, is rendered distinct 
by attending to it. The intensification of consciousness 
in one particular direction produces thus an increase of 
illumination, and so subserves the clear perception and 
understanding of things. 

Attention produces striking effects on the feelings. A 
serious bodily injury may hardly trouble our mind, if 
through some exceptional excitement it is hindered from 
attending to it. Thus it is known that soldiers wounded 
in battle have hardly felt any pain at the moment. On 
the other hand, a very moderate sensation of discomfort, 
as an irritation of the skin, grows into something intensely 
disagreeable if the attention is fastened on the particular 
bodily locality affected. Finally, our actions grow more 
vigorous and energetic as well as more precise when we 
give our attention to the objects aimed at.* 

Physiology of Attention. — The seat of attention 
appears to be situated in the higher region of the nerve- 

* For some curious illustrations of the effects of attention, see Dr. 
Carpenter's *' Mental Physiology," chap. iii. 



EXTENT OF ATTENTION, 6g 

centers in the cerebral hemispheres. The mechanism of 
attention probably involves an intensification of nervous 
activity in certain regions of the brain, which is effected 
by means of an impulse sent forth from the supreme con- 
trolling centers. In this way, for example, the nerve- 
centers employed in hearing are thrown into a state of 
exceptional excitabiHty when we listen to somebody read- 
ing or singing. Along with this concentration of nerve- 
energy in certain definite regions of the brain, the act of 
external attention involves important muscular adjust- 
ments, such as directing the eye to an object, which are 
necessary to the reception of distinct sense-impressions. 

Extent of Attention.— All attention is a narrowing 
of the range of mental activity and to a certain extent a 
concentration or focusing of the mind on a given point. 
But all acts of attention do not embrace equal areas or 
extents. Just as in looking at a landscape we may fix the 
eye on a smaller or larger portion of the scene, so the 
mind may direct itself to a smaller or larger area of 
object. 

In general it may be said that the more things we try 
to include in our mental gaze the less distinct is the 
result. This is seen plainly in all efforts to attend to a 
variety of disconnected things at one time, as when we 
are reading a book and listening to a conversation. " One 
thing at a time " is the law of mental activity, and the 
performing of distinct mental occupations is only possible 
where repetition and habit exempt us from close attention, 
as in carrying on some familiar manual operation and 
listening to another's words. 

Where, however, we have to do with a number of con- 
nected impressions or objects of attention, we are able to 
a certain extent to include them in one view. Thus we 
can attend to the features of a face in their relations of 
proportion, to a succession of musical sounds in their re- 
lations of rhythm, etc. This grasp of a number of parts, 
7 



70 ATTENTION. 

details, or members of a group, is greatly facilitated by a 
rapid transition of the mental glance from one detail to 
another, as in running over the various features of an 
artistic design, or the succeeding steps of an argument. 

On what the Degree of Attention depends.— 
The amount of attention exerted at any time depends on 
two chief circumstances : (a) the quantity of nervous 
energy disposable at the time; (b) the strength of the 
stimulus which excites the attention or rouses it to action. 
If there is great active energy, a feeble stimulus will suffice 
to bring about attention. A healthy, vigorous child, in the 
early part of the day, has a superabundance of energy 
which shows itself in attention to small and comparatively 
uninteresting matters. Indeed, his activity prompts him 
to seek objects of attention in his surroundings. On the 
other hand, a tired or weakly child requires a powerful 
stimulus to rouse his mental activity. 

External and Internal Stimuli. — The stimulus to 
an act of attention may be either something external, con- 
nected with the object attended to, or something internal. 
An external stimulus consists of some interesting or strik- 
ing feature in the object itself, or in its accompaniments, 
by reason of which the attention is said to be attracted 
and arrested, as when a child's attention is excited by the 
brilliance of a light, or the strangeness of a sound. An 
internal stimulus is a motive in the mind which prompts 
it to put forth its attention in a particular direction, such 
as the desire of a child to please his teacher, or to gain a 
higher place in his class. 

Non-Voluntary and Voluntary Attention.— When 
the mind is acted upon by the mere force of the object 
presented, the act of attention is said to be non-voluntary.* 
It may also be called reflex (or automatic) because it bears 

* The term non-voluntary is preferred to involuntary, as indicating 
the mere absence of volition, and not opposition to will or " unwilling- 
ness." 



LAW OF CONTRAST AND NOVELTY. 71 

a striking analogy to reflex movement, that is to say, move- 
ment following sensory stimulation without the interven- 
tion of a conscious purpose. On the other hand, when 
we attend to a thing under the impulse of a desire, such 
as curiosity or a wish to know about a thing, we are said 
to do so by an act of will, or voluntarily. These two modes 
of attention, though properly distinguished one from an- 
other, are both acts of the mind, and will be found to shade 
off one into the other in our actual mental life. 

Reflex Attention. — This is the earlier form of atten- 
tion, and the one with which the teacher is specially con- 
cerned in the first stages of instruction. Here the direc- 
tion of the attention is determined for the mind rather 
than by the mind. It follows the lead of the attractive 
force which happens to work at the time. 

In its simplest form attention is a momentary direction 
of the attention due to the action of a powerful sensory 
stimulus, as a brilliant light, a loud sound, etc. Every 
teacher knows the value of a strong emphatic mode of 
utterance in commanding the attention ; and this effect is 
partly due to the action of strong sensuous impressions in 
rousing mental activity. 

Law of Contrast and Novelty.— This momentary 
direction of the attention is governed by the law of change 
or contrast. According to this principle, an unvarying 
impression, if prolonged, fails to produce a mental effect. 
The constant noise of the mill soon ceases to be noticed 
by one who lives near it. This is partly due to the fact 
that a prolonged powerful stimulus fatigues the nerve-cen- 
ter and renders it less responsive. But, in addition to 
this, a prolonged impression, even if a powerful one, loses 
its effect because it ceases to exert an attractive force on 
the attention. Hence, the teacher who continually or very 
frequently addresses his class in loud tones, misses the 
advantage of an occasional raising of the voice. 

On the other hand, a sudden change of impression, as 



72 ATTENTION. 

when a light is brought into a dark room, or the report of 
a gun breaks the stillness of the country, acts as a power- 
ful excitant to the attention. For the same reason a strong 
contrast of impression, as between high and low, soft and 
loud in music, bright and dark colors, and so forth, is an 
excitant to the attention. 

Novelty, so powerful a force in childhood and a con- 
siderable force throughout life, is only a further illustra- 
tion of the law of change. For something new attracts 
the attention, because it stands in contrast with our ordi- 
nary surroundings and experience. It stimulates and ex- 
cites the mind very much as a startling contrast. 

Interest. — When it is said that we only attend to what 
interests us, there is a reference to the excitation of a cer- 
tain amount of feeling. This feeling acts as a force in ar- 
resting the attention and keeping it fixed for an apprecia- 
ble time. Attention to what interests us is thus always 
something more than the momentary direction of atten- 
tion. This feeling of interest may arise in different ways. 

(i) In the first place, interest is excited when the ob- 
ject is in itself pretty or beautiful, and so fitted to give 
immediate pleasure or gratification in the very act of 
attending to it. Thus, an infant will keep its eyes fixed 
for a time on the lamp brought into the room, because of 
its pleasurable effect. The production of pleasure, in con- 
nection with any mode of activity, tends, as we shall see 
by-and-by, to intensify and prolong this activity. This 
forms the germ of aesthetic interest. 

(2) Another great source of interest in things is their 
connection with what is pleasurable or painful in our past 
experience. The infant shows the most vivid interest in 
such sights as the preparation of its food, its bath, etc. 
A child will listen to whatever bears on its familiar pleas- 
ures, its favorite possessions and companions, its amuse- 
ments, etc. In all states of fear, again, we see the atten- 
tion closely engaged by that which bears on pain or suffer- 



FAMILIARITY AND INTEREST, ^73 

ing. This effect of a connection or association with what 
is pleasurable or painful in riveting the attention underlies 
what we mark off as practical interest. 

(3) Lastly, interest may assume a more distinctly in- 
tellectual form, involving the germ of a wish to understand a 
thing, and the desire for knowledge as such. This intellect- 
ual interest is what we commonly call curiosity. It springs 
up in different ways. It arises most naturally out of a feeling 
of wonder at what is new, strange, and mysterious, as 
when a child sees a light go out in a bottle filled with car- 
bonic acid, and wants to know the cause. In many cases, 
however, it takes its rise in the feeling of delight produced 
by what is beautiful, as when a child is interested in know- 
ing about a lovely flower or bird. Finally, this intellectual 
interest is greatly promoted by the principle of associa- 
tion. The direction of children's curiosity follows to a 
large extent the lead of association. What is seen to have 
a bearing on the child's pleasures and practical aims tends 
to become the object of a genuine intellectual curiosity. 

Familiarity and Interest.— It follows from this 
that mere novelty, though a powerful stimulus to the at- 
tention, and capable of leading on to curiosity, is rarely if 
ever sufficient to detain and fix the attention in a pro- 
longed act or attitude. What is absolutely strange and 
consequently unsuggestive to the child's mind is apt to be 
a matter of indifference. In walking down a new street, 
for^ example, a child will as a rule notice those things 
which in some way remind him of, and connect themselves 
with, what he already knows and likes, e. g., the harness in 
the saddler's shop.* While, therefore, the principle of 
change tells us that perfect familiarity with a subject is 
fatal to interest, the laws of intellectual interest tell us 
that a measure of familiarity is essential. The principle 

* See the interesting account of the want of interest in London 
sights manifested by some Esquimaux who visited our capital, given 
by Miss Edgeworth, " Practical Education," ii, p. 118. 



74 



ATTENTION. 



of modern intellectual education, that there should be a 
gradual transition from the known to the unknown, is thus 
seen to correspond not only with the necessities of intellect- 
ual movement and development, but also with the natural 
laws of development of those feelings of interest which in- 
spire attention and so call the intellectual faculties into play. 

Transition to Voluntary Attention.— The devel- 
opment of interest and curiosity forms a natural transition 
from non-voluntary to voluntary attention. The prolonga- 
tion of the act of attention implies a germ of volition. 
Thus the maintenance of the expectant attitude of mind 
by a class, when the teacher is presenting interesting ma- 
terials, is due to a vague anticipation of coming gratifica- 
tion and a desire to realize this. Here, then, we see how 
gradually the earlier and lower form passes into the later 
and higher. In supplying interesting matter to his class, 
and exciting a feeling of pleasurable interest, the teacher 
is preparing the way for the exercises of the will in what is 
called voluntary attention. 

Function of the Will in Attention.— It is impossi- 
ble at this stage to explain the whole nature of voluntary 
attention. As a mode of will or volition it obeys the laws 
of volition, which will be expounded later on. Here it 
must suffice to indicate the effects of voluntary action in 
enlarging the sphere and otherwise modifying the charac- 
ter of attention. 

To begin with, then, what is called voluntary attention 
is not a wholly new phase of the process. After the ac- 
tion of the will has supervened, the forces of non-voluntary 
attention continue to be active as tendencies. And the 
range of the will's action is limited by these. Thus the 
student most practiced in abstraction finds that there is 
some force of external stimulus, as the allurement of a 
beautiful melody sung within his hearing, against which 
his will is impotent. 

Again, though we can undoubtedly (within certain 



FUNCTION OF THE WILL IN ATTENTION. 75 

limits) direct our attention in this or that quarter at will, 
we have not the power to keep our attention closely and 
persistently fixed on any object which we (or somebody 
else for us) may happen to select. Something further is 
necessary to that lively interaction of- mind and object 
which we call a state of attention ; and this is interest. 
By an act of will a person may resolve to turn his atten- 
tion to something, say a passage in a book. But if, after 
this preliminary process of adjustment of the mental eye, 
the subject-matter opens up no interesting phase, no effort 
of volition will produce a calm, settled state of concentra- 
tion. The will introduces mind and object : it can not 
force an attachment between them. No compulsion of a 
teacher ever succeeded in making a young mind cordially 
embrace and appropriate by an act of concentration an 
unsuitable, and therefore uninteresting subject. We thus 
see that voluntary attention is not removed from the sway 
of interest. What the will does is to determine the kind 
of interest which shall prevail at the moment. 

The importance of this initial action of will, in deter- 
mining the direction of attention, depends on the fact that 
in many cases a strong interest is only developed after the 
mind and the subject-matter have remained in contact 
awhile. Many subjects do not disclose their attractions 
at once and on the surface, but only after they have been 
more closely examined. Thus the charm of a poem or of 
a geometrical problem makes itself felt gradually. Hence, 
if a child can be induced to exercise his will at the outset, 
under the influence of some internal motive disconnected 
with the subject, as the desire to please his parents or 
teacher, or to gain some tangible advantage from the 
study, he will often come under the spell of new and un- 
suspected varieties of interest. Indeed, the taking up of 
any new branch of study illustrates this gradual substitu- 
tion of an easy, agreeable activity for a comparatively hard 
and disagreeable one. 



^6 ATTENTION. 

Growth of Attention : Early Stage. — After this 
account of the nature and laws of attention and its two 
chief forms, a few words will suffice to indicate the suc- 
cessive phases of its growth. As has been observed, the 
early form of attention is the reflex or non-voluntary. By 
frequent exercises of its activity in response to external 
stimuli the power attains a certain degree of development 
independently of any aid from the will. By this is meant 
that, after a certain number of exercises, less powerful 
stimuli suffice, in the absence of more powerful ones, to 
call forth attention. Thus, by directing his attention again 
and again to bright objects, as the candle, the infant is 
preparing to direct it (still non-voluntarily) to the mother's 
face, his own hands, etc., when these objects happen to 
come into the field of view. With the progress of life, 
too, many things at first indifferent acquire an interest. 
Thus the accompaniments of what is intrinsically interest- 
ing would acquire (according to the principle of associ- 
ation) a borrowed or derived interest. In this way the 
infant tends to watch the movements and doings of his 
nurse, mother, etc. ; the boy comes to take an interest in 
the construction of his kite, and so on. Not only so, the 
range of interesting objects would be greatly extended by 
the development of new feelings, such as the sense of the 
grotesque, the feeling for what is beautiful, affection, etc. 

Development of Power of controlling the At- 
tention. — While this exercise of the power of attention in 
the reflex form is thus going on, the child's will is also de- 
veloping. The simplest manifestation of voluntary atten- 
tion may perhaps be found in the continued gazing at an 
agreeable object, such as a brightly colored toy or picture, 
held before the eye ; for here, as pointed out above, there 
is a vague anticipation of further pleasure. A more dis- 
tinctly marked development of will-power is manifested in 
the attitude of expectation. From a very early period of 
life the will begins to manifest itself in a deliberate explor- 



ATTENTION TO THE UNIMPRESSIVE. 



77 



ing or looking out for objects to inspect or examine.* By- 
such successive exercises the activity of attention is little 
by little brought under perfect control. Although the full 
understanding of this process presupposes a knowledge 
of the growth of will as a whole, we may be able to antici- 
pate to some extent, and indicate the main lines of this 
progress. 

The growth of voluntary attention means a continual 
reduction of the difficulty of attending to objects. The 
law that exercise strengthens faculty applies to attention. 
What is first done with labor and sense of difficulty is, 
with repetition and practice, done more and more easily. 
At the same time more and more difficult tasks become 
possible. The growth of attention may be best treated by 
distinguishing between the several forms in which this 
progressive mastery of difficulty manifests itself. 

Attention to the Unimpressive.— Voluntary atten- 
tion is obviously a going beyond the range of powerful and 
directly interesting stimuli, and an embracing of a wider 
circle of comparatively unimpressive and only indirectly 
interesting objects. The progress of attention can be 
measured under this aspect. The child learns gradually 
to fix with his eye the less striking, prominent, and attract- 
ive objects and events of the world in which he lives. 
When no strongly impressive objects are present, the very- 
impulse of activity will insure a certain amount of atten- 
tion to less conspicuous and striking ones. Moreover, 
each successive exercise of the attention makes subsequent 
exercises easier, and the growth of mind as a whole implies 

* Prof. Preyer says that the child begins to explore the field of vis- 
ion in search of objects before the end of the third month. (" Die 
Seele des Kindes," p. 33.) He puts the first appearance of volition, 
properly so called, a month or two later. This suggests that the simple 
action here spoken of is a transition from the reflex to the voluntary 
form of attention. On the other hand, M. Perez thinks he discovers 
the germ of voluntary attention at the age of two months and six days. 
(" The First Three Years of Childhood," p. 112.) 



78 



ATTENTION, 



the constant addition of new needs and impulses which 
would insure a wider range of attention. 

Resistance to Stimuli. — A voluntary control of the 
attention involves, in the second place, the ability to resist 
the solicitations of extraneous and distracting objects. 
Voluntarily to turn the mind to a thing is to exclude what 
is irrelevant. This power of resistance has, of course, in 
every case its limits. Nobody can withstand the disturb- 
ing force of a sudden explosion. But the capabiHty of 
resisting such distractions varies considerably, and is 
greatly improved by practice. The child, when sent to 
school, finds it hard at first not to look at his companions, 
or out of the window, when a lesson is being given. By- 
and-by he will be able to fix his mind on his lesson, even 
when some amount of disturbing noise is present. The 
highest attainment of this power is seen in the student 
whose mind is " abstracted " from external impressions, 
being wholly absorbed in internal reflection. 

Keeping the Attention fixed. — Another aspect, 
under which the growth of attention may be estimated, is 
the ability to detain objects before the mind. As we have 
seen, reflex attention is, for the most part, a process of flit- 
ting from object to object. We found, indeed, that even 
here there is a force at work which tends to counteract the 
impulse to skip from one thing to another. But this would 
not of itself carry us very far. It is only as the attention 
comes under the control of the will that it shows any con- 
siderable measure of persistence. To attend to a thing 
voluntarily means commonly to keep the mind dwelling on 
it. The ordinary school exercises involve such a prolonged 
and sustained effort of attention. Thus, in counting, the 
mind has to keep steadily in view the result of each of the 
successive operations as it is reached. The wandering of 
the thoughts for an instant would be fatal to the achieve- 
ment of the whole process. So, in following a description, 
a demonstration in Euclid, and so forth. 



CONCENTRA TION, 



79 



Here, again, we have to recognize the existence of cer- 
tain limits in every case. Nobody can fix his mind on one 
and the same object — say a geometrical figure — for an in- 
definite time. When once the fresh interest of a thing is 
exhausted, a further fixing of the attention costs more and 
more effort. Nor can a pupil carry on a sustained effort 
of attention through an indefinitely long arithmetical or 
other operation. The brain is soon wearied by the pro- 
longed exertion, and attention flags in spite of the utmost 
effort. But the limit of fatigue is pushed further off as 
the will develops and the act of attention becomes more 
easy. 

Concentration. — The power of sustained attention 
grows with the ability to resist distractions and solicita- 
tions. The two capabilities are thus very closely con- 
nected with one another, and are both included in the 
term concentration. To concentrate the mind is to fix it 
persistently on an object or group of objects, resolutely 
excluding from the mental view all irrelevant objects. 
The great field for the early exercises of such concentra- 
tion is action. When the child wants to do something, as 
open a box, or build a pile of bricks, the strong desire for 
the end secures a prolonged effort of attention. The 
scholar patiently poring over a mutilated passage in an 
ancient MS., to the neglect of his appetite, or the natural- 
ist patiently observing the movements of insects or of 
plants, indifferent to cold and wet, illustrates a high 
power of prolonged concentration. A person's power of 
attention may be conveniently measured by the degree of 
persistence attained. 

Concentration and Intellectual Power. — It has 
often been said that great intellectual power turns on the 
ability to concentrate the attention. Newton based his 
intellectual superiority on this circumstance. Helvetius 
observed that genius is nothing but a continued attention. 
A proposition about which there is so general an agree- 



8o ATTENTION, 

ment among those who ought to know may be safely ac- 
cepted as expressing a truth. Attention is a condition of 
all intellectual achievement, and a good power of pro- 
longed concentration is undoubtedly indispensable to first- 
rate achievement in any direction. The discoverers of 
new knowledge have always been distinguished by an 
unusual degree of pertinacity in brooding over a subject, 
and in following out trains of thought in this and that 
direction till the required explanation of fact, reconcili- 
ation of apparent contradictions, and so on, was found. 
But though these sayings undoubtedly embody an impor- 
tant truth, they only contain a part of the whole truth. No 
amount of attention simply will constitute intellectual 
eminence. The dull, slow, but exceedingly plodding 
child is a familiar type to the teacher. Success of the 
higher order depends on the possession of the intellectual 
functions (discrimination, etc.) in an exceptionally perfect 
form. On the other hand, good intellectual powers, when 
aided by a comparatively small power of prolonged atten- 
tion, may render their possessor quick and intelligent. 

Grasp of Attention. — As was pointed out above, the 
mind has a certain power of including a number of objects 
in one glance, and this power underlies the apprehension 
of all relations, such as symmetry of form, similarity be- 
tween objects, etc. The acquisition of this grasp is one 
of the most valuable results of the growth of the power of 
voluntary attention. Only as this power is developed will 
it be possible for the teacher to take his pupil on to the 
higher intellectual exercises, such as the understanding of 
geometrical relations of the more complicated kind, the 
processes of comparing a number of things with a view to 
abstraction, the logical analysis of sentences, arguments, 
and so forth. This form of attention, like the other forms, 
needs its own special modes of exercise to develop and 
improve it. 

We must distinguish this power of carrying the atten- 



VARIETIES OF ATTENTIVE POWER. 8l 

tion quickly over a number of connected details from 
another variety of attention closely akin to it, viz., the 
capability of transferring the mental glance from one 
thing to another and disconnected thing. This capability 
is illustrated in a striking form in the rapid movements of 
the versatile mind from one subject of conversation, one 
region of ideas to another. This power of rapid trans- 
ference, though valuable in many intellectual exercises, is 
of far less value than the power of mentally bringing a 
number of details together as parts of one whole. It is 
plain, too, that it is in a manner opposed to prolonged 
concentration upon one subject. 

Habits of Attention, — Voluntary attention, like vol- 
untary action as a whole, is perfected in the form of habits. 
By a habit we mean a fixed disposition to do a thing, and 
a facility in doing it, the result of numerous repetitions of 
the action. The growth of the power of attention may be 
viewed as a progressive formation of habits. At first vol- 
untary concentration of mind requires a spur and an effort. 
As soon as the pressure of strong motive is withdrawn, the 
young mind returns to its natural state of listlessness or 
wandering attention. A habit of attention first appears as 
a recurring readiness to attend under definite circum- 
stances, for example when the child goes into his class- 
room, or is addressed by somebody. This is what Miss 
Edgeworth calls a habit of associated attention. Later on 
there manifests itself a more permanent attitude of atten- 
tiveness. The transition from childhood to youth is often 
characterized by the acquisition of a more general atti- 
tude of mental watchfulness, showing itself in thoughtful- 
ness about what is seen and heard. The highest result of 
the working of the principle of habit in this region is illus- 
trated in the customary, and but rarely relaxed, alertness 
of mind of the artistic or scientific observer of nature. 

Varieties of Attentive Power.— It has been im- 
plied that the power of attention develops very unequally 
8 



82 A TTENTION. 

in different individual cases. With some this power never 
reaches a high point at all ; these are the children of slug- 
gish attention, the "saunterers," to use Locke's expression, 
who form the teacher's crux. Again, owing to differences 
of native endowment, as well as of exercise, we find well- 
marked contrasts in the special direction which the atten- 
tive power assumes. And these help, to a considerable 
extent, to determine the cast or character of the indi- 
vidual intelligence. Everybody knows the difference, for 
example, between the plodding child, able to concentrate 
his mind on an object for a long period, but slow to 
transfer and adjust his attention to new matter, and the 
quick but rather superficial child — the volatile genius, ac- 
cording to Miss Edgeworth, who finds it easy to direct his 
attention to new objects, though hard to keep it fixed for 
a prolonged period. There are many students who are 
capable of great intensity of concentration under favor- 
able circumstances, but whose minds are easily over- 
powered by disturbing or distracting influences. Finally, 
the ruling habits of attention will vary according to the 
character of the predominant interests. Thus, for ex- 
ample, a strong love of nature (whether scientific or 
artistic) will give a habitual outward bent to the atten- 
tion ; whereas a paramount interest in our own feelings, 
or in the objects of imagination and thought, will give a 
customary inward inclination to the attention. 

Training of the Attention. — All intellectual guid- 
ance of the young manifestly implies the power of holding 
their attention. Instruction may be said to begin when 
the mother can secure the attention of the infant to an 
object by pointing her finger to it. Henceforth she has 
the child's mental life to a certain extent under her con- 
trol, and can select the impressions which shall give new 
knowledge or new enjoyment. What we mark off as 
formal teaching, whether by the presentation of external 
objects for inspection through the senses, or by verbal 



TRAINING OF THE ATTENTION. 83 

instruction, clearly involves at every stage an appeal to 
the attention, and depends for its success on securing this. 
To know how to exercise the attention, how to call forth 
its full activity, is thus the first condition of success in 
education. 

Mental science here, as in respect of the other faculties, 
can only point out the general conditions to be observed, 
and the natural order of procedure. It is plain, in the 
first place, that the laws of attention must be complied 
with. He would be a foolish teacher who gave a child a 
number of disconnected things to do at a time, or who 
insisted on keeping his mind bent on the same subject 
for an indefinite period. Yet, though these conditions 
are obvious enough, others are more easily overlooked. 
Thus it is probable that a more exact knowledge of the 
effects on the attention of novelty of subject and mode of 
treatment, on the one hand, and of total unfamiliarity on 
the other hand, would save teachers from many errors. 
Some of us can recall from our school-days the wearisome 
effect of an oft-recurring stereotyped illustration, as well 
as the impression of repellent strangeness produced by a 
first, and too sudden, introduction to a perfectly new 
branch of study. 

In the second place, it will be well to bear in mind that 
the young child's power of voluntary attention is rudi- 
mentary only, and that force must be economized by re- 
moving all obstacles and making the task as attractive and 
agreeable as possible. It would be idle to try to enHst his 
close attention if he were bodily fatigued, or if he were 
under the influence of emotional excitement, and agitated 
in mind and body. Again, it would be vain to expect him 
to listen to oral instruction close to a window looking out 
on a busy street. Children's (uncontrolled) attention 
flows outward to the sights and sounds of the actual 
external world, and is less easily diverted by the teacher's 
words toward the world of imagination and thought. 



84 ATTENTION. 

Consequently, in teaching, everything should be done to 
reduce the force of outward things. The teacher would 
do well to remember that even so practiced a thinker as 
Kant found it helpful to prolonged meditation to fix his 
eye on a familiar and therefore unexciting object (a 
neighboring church-spire). Not only so, the subject and 
mode of treatment chosen should be such as to attract the 
learner's attention to the utmost What is fresh, interest- 
ing, or associated with some pleasurable interest, will 
secure and hold the attention when dry topics altogether 
fail to do so. Much may be done in this direction by 
preparation, by awakening curiosity, and by putting the 
child's mind in the attitude of tiptoe expectancy. 

As the pupil grows, more may of course be required in 
the shape of a voluntary effort to attend. It must never 
be forgotten, however, that all through life forced atten- 
tion to what is wholly uninteresting is not only wearying, 
but is certain to be ineffectual and unproductive. Hence, 
the rule to adapt the work to the growing intellectual and 
other likings of the child. Not only so, the teacher 
should regard it as an important part of the training of 
the attention to arouse interest, to deepen and fix it in 
certain definite directions, and gradually to enlarge its 
range.* Harder task-work, such as learning the com- 
paratively uninteresting letters of the alphabet, or the 
notes of the musical scale, must be introduced gradually, 
and only when the will-power is sufficiently developed. 
Great care must be taken further to graduate the length 
or duration of the mental application, both in a particular 
direction and generally, in accordance with the progress 
of the child's powers of voluntary attention. An ideal 
school-system would exhibit all gradations in this respect ; 

* Volkmann remarks that the older psedagogic had as its rule, 
" Make your instruction interesting" ; whereas the newer has the pre- 
cept, '* Instruct in such a way that an interest may awake and remain 
active for life " (" Lehrbuch der Psychologic," vol. ii, p. 200). 



TRAINING OF THE ATTENTION. 85 

alternation and complete remission of mental activity be- 
ing frequent at first, and growing less and less so as the 
powers of prolonged concentration develop. 

APPENDIX. 

On the early development of attention, see Perez, " First Three 
Years of Childhood," chap. viii. The characteristics of children's at- 
tention and the laws of the growth of attention are well described by 
Waitz, "Lehrbuch der Psychologic," § 55 ; and by Volkmann, " Lehr- 
buch der Psychologic," vol. ii, § 114. 

On the training of the attention, see Locke, " Some Thoughts con- 
cerning Education," § 167 ; Maria Edgeworth, " Essays on Practical 
Education," vol. i, chap. ii. Beneke, " Erziehungs- und Unterrichts- 
lehre," 4th ed., vol. i, § 19 ; and Th. Waltz's " Allgemeine Paedago- 
gik," vol. i, § 23. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE SENSES : SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 

All knowledge takes its rise in the senses. No intel- 
lectual work, such as imagining or reasoning, can be done 
till the senses have supplied the necessary materials. These 
materials, when reduced to their elements, are known as 
sensations or impressions, such as those of light and color, 
which we receive by means of the eye, of sound, which we 
have by way of the ear, and so on. An examination of 
our most abstract notions, such as force, matter, leads us 
back to these impressions of sense. Our ideas respecting 
the nature and properties of things is limited by our sensa- 
tions. The want of a sense, as in the case of one born 
blind, means depriving the mind of a whole order of ideas. 
The addition of a new sense, if such a thing were possible, 
would enrich our minds by a new kind of knowledge re- 
specting the world. 

Definition of Sensation.— A sensation being an ele- 
mentary mental phenomenon can not be defined in terms 
of anything more simple. Its meaning can only be indi- 
cated by a reference to the nervous processes on which it 
is known to depend. Accordingly, a sensation may be 
defined as a simple mental state resulting from the stimu- 
lation of the outer extremity of an " incarrying " nerve, 
when this stimulation has been transmitted to the brain- 
centers. Thus the stimulation of a point of the skin by 
pressing or rubbing, or of the retina of the eye by light, 
gives rise to a sensation. 



GENERAL AND SPECIAL SENSIBILITY. 8/ 

These sensations have two broadly distinguishable as- 
pects, one of which is commonly predominant. The first 
is the emotional aspect, by which is meant the presence of 
a distinct element of feeling, pleasurable or painful. A 
sensation of bodily warmth, or of sweetness, illustrates this 
prominence of the element of feeling. The second aspect 
is the intellectual^ or knowledge-giving. By this is meant 
the presence of definite and clearly distinguishable prop- 
erties, which may be called marks or characters, because 
they serve as clews to the qualities of external things. The 
sensation experienced on touching a smooth surface, or on 
hearing a sound of a particular pitch and loudness, is an 
example of the predominance of the intellectual element. 

General and Special Sensibility.—All parts of the 
organism supplied with sensory nerves, and the actions of 
which are consequently fitted to give rise to sensations, 
are said to possess sensibility of some kind. But this prop- 
erty appears under one of two very unlike forms. • The 
first of these is common to all sensitive parts of the organ- 
ism, and involves no special nervous structure at the ex- 
tremity. The second is peculiar to certain parts of the 
bodily surface, and implies special structures or "organs." 
To the former is given the name common or general sensi- 
bility, and also organic sense ; to the latter, special sensi- 
bility, or special sense. 

The sensations falling under the head of common sensi- 
bility, or the organic sense, are marked by absence of 
definite characters. They are vague and ill-defined. Their 
distinguishing peculiarity is that they have a marked 
pleasurable or painful aspect. Such are the feelings of 
comfort and discomfort connected with the processes of 
digestion and indigestion, and with injuries to the tissues. 
These sensations are not directly connected with the action 
of external objects, but arise in consequence of a certain 
condition of the part of the organism concerned. Thus 
they give us no knowledge of the external world. They 



88 THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 

are no doubt important as informing us of the condition 
of the organism ; but, owing to their vagueness, they give 
us very little definite knowledge even of this. 

The special sensations are those we receive by way of 
the five senses. They are marked off one from another 
by great definiteness of character. This peculiarity is 
connected with the fact that each sense has its own spe- 
cially modified structure or " sense-organ " such as the eye, 
or the ear, fitted to be acted upon by a particular kind of 
stimulus (light-vibrations, air-waves, etc.). Owing to this 
definiteness of character, the special sensations are much 
more susceptible of being discriminated and recognized 
than the organic sensations. Moreover, these sensations 
are (in ordinary cases) brought about by the action of ex- 
ternal agents or objects lying outside the organism, and 
are on that account called impressions, or, better, sense- 
impressions.* For these reasons they are fitted to yield us 
knowledge of the environment. 

Characters of Sensations.— The importance of the 
special senses depends, as we have seen, on their possess- 
ing certain well-defined aspects, whereby they are fitted to 
be marks of qualities in external objects as well as of the 
changes which take place in these. The two most impor- 
tant distinctions of character among our sensations are 
those of degree and of kind. 

By degree or intensity is meant a difference of strength, 
as that between a bright and a faint light, or a loud and 
a soft sound. All classes of sensation exhibit such differ- 
ences of degree. They are of great importance for knowl- 
edge. Thus the degree of pressure of a body on the hand 
helps to tell us of its weight. 

By a difference of kind or quality is meant one of na- 
ture, as that between sour and sweet, blue and red. These 

* The sense-impression which we are here concerned with is a w^«- 
/a/ phenomenon, and must not be confused with the physical " impres- 
sion," as, for example, the image of an object on the retina. 



THE FIVE SENSES, 89 

too are marks of external facts. Thus we distinguish ob- 
jects by their colors, voices by their pitch, etc. 

The Five Senses. — Coming now to the senses in 
detail, we see that they do not all exhibit the same degree 
of definiteness or the same number of distinct characters. 
We usually speak of taste and smell as the coarse or un- 
refined senses, whereas hearing and sight are highly re- 
fined. By attending simply to the degree of refinement, we 
may arrange the senses in the following ascending order: 
taste, smell, touch, hearing, sight. A few words on the 
special function of each must suffice here. 

Taste and Smell. — These present a decidedly low 
measure of refinement. Indeed, the sensations of these 
senses may be said to approach the organic sensations in 
want of definiteness, and in the predominance of the ele- 
ment of feeling (pleasure and pain). These peculiarities 
are connected with the fact that these senses have as their 
function the determination of what is wholesome or un- 
wholesome to the organism as a whole. The very position 
of the organs, at the entrance of the digestive and respira- 
tory cavities, suggests that they are sentinels to warn us as 
to what is good or ill. The sensations of taste and smell are 
easily confused one with another, and can not be definite- 
ly distinguished either in degree or quality. For this and 
other reasons, they are of little importance as knowledge- 
giving senses. It is only under special circumstances, as 
those of the chemist, the wine-taster, and so on, that these 
" servants of the body " supply a quantity of exact knowl- 
edge about the properties of external objects. 

Touch. — By the sense of touch is meant the sensa- 
tions we receive through the stimulation of certain nerves 
terminating in the skin by bodies in contact with it. These 
are either sensations of mere contact or pressure, or those 
of temperature. 

These supply important elements of feeling. Thus, 
contact with smooth surfaces and with warm bodies is 



go THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION, 

one chief source of sensuous pleasure, especially in early- 
life. 

The chief importance of touch is, however, under its 
intellectual aspect. In its highest form as it presents itself 
at definite portions of the bodily surface, more particular- 
ly the hands, and especially the finger-tips (with which the 
lips may be reckoned), the tactile sensibility becomes a 
most important means of ascertaining the properties of 
bodies. The sensations of touch have a much higher de- 
gree of definiteness than those of taste and smell. 

The discrimination of degrees of pressure by the tac- 
tile sense is estimated by laying a weight on the hand or 
some other part, and then trying how much must be taken 
away or added in order that a difference may be felt.* 
It is found that the discriminative sensibility varies con- 
siderably at different regions of the bodily surface. For 
instance, on the anterior surface of the fingers the differ- 
ence of pressure detected is about one half of that recog- 
nized on their posterior surface. 

This discrimination of degrees of pressure by the skin 
is one of the means by which we obtain knowledge of the 
force exerted by bodies, e. g., the difference when a heavy 
and a light body press against us. It also assists in giving 
us information respecting the weight of bodies. 

In the case of touch we have a further difference of 
sensation which may be called local distinction of sensa- 
tion, or local discrimination. By this is meant the fact 
that we can distinguish a number of similar touches when 
different points of the skin are stimulated. This discrimi- 
nation of points, like that of degrees of pressure, varies at 
different parts of the bodily surface. It is much finer in 
the mobile parts of the body (hands, feet, lips, etc.) than 

* If the hand is the part selected, it must be supported by some 
object, as a table. Only in this way can we test the tactile sensibility 
to pressure apart from the muscular sensibility to be spoken of pres- 
ently. 



TOUCH. 91 

in the comparatively fixed parts (the trunk). Again, it is 
finer on the anterior than on the posterior surface of the 
hand, and decreases rapidly as we recede from the finger- 
tips toward the wrist and elbow. We see from this that 
the finger-tips are specially marked out as the organ of 
tactile sensibility.* 

This local separation of tactile sensations is of the 
greatest consequence for knowledge. First of all, it is this 
capability, added to the discrimination of pressure, which 
forms the basis of our tactile discrimination of roughness 
and smoothness. A very rough surface, such as that of a 
piece of unplaned wood or of sand-paper, is appreciated as 
such by differences of pressure corresponding to eminences 
and depressions at various points of the surface. In esti- 
mating a rough surface, therefore, we must both distinguish 
the several points and the degrees of pressure at these. 
The sense of roughness and its opposite in their various 
degrees is of importance in ascertaining not only the na- 
ture of a surface, but also the texture of a substance, as 
the fibrous texture of wood, woven materials, etc. 

In the second place, this local discrimination forms the 
foundation of the tactile knowledge of what is called ex- 
tension, or the extendedness of outer things, by which is 
meant the fact that they have parts occupying different 
positions in space ; as well as the various modifications of 
this extendedness which constitute differences of form and 
magnitude in objects, as differences of direction and 
length of line, form and extent of surface, etc. It is by 
laying the hand or the two hands on the surface of an ob- 
ject, such as a book, that we learn something of its figure 
and size. 

Finally, under touch is commonly included the sense of 
temperature or the thermal sense. It is now known that 
this sensibility is connected with special nerve-structure 

* The tip of the tongue and the lips are also highly endowed with 
tactile discrimination. 



92 



THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 



distinct from those of the tactile sense proper, and not va- 
rying in the same way as this varies at different portions 
of the bodily surface. Hence the thermal sense is a sepa- 
rate sense. At the same time, we usually test the temper- 
ature of bodies by touching them, and this with the fin- 
gers. And the appreciation of temperature thus takes place 
in close connection with that of their tangible properties. 
The child learns to know a metal and to distinguish it 
from wood partly by the differences in the thermal sensa- 
tions.* 

Active Touch. — So far we have considered touch 
merely as a passive sense, i. e., as sensibility to the action 
of things on the tactile surface. But the fact that we 
speak of touching bodies as our own action shows that it 
is an active sense as well. In touching, we ourselves bring 
the organ into contact with substances, and so secure its 
exercise. In other words, the organ is supplied with mus- 
cles, the action of which is of very great importance as 
enlarging the range of our experience and knowledge. 

The first and most obvious advantage of this adjunct 
of muscular activity is the multiplication of tactile impres- 
sions. Just as the mobility of the insect's antennae en- 
ables it to gain many more impressions of touch than it 
would have if the organs were fixed, so the mobile arm, 
hand, and fingers of the child greatly extend the range of 
his tactile experiences. By such movements he is able to 
bring the most sensitive part of the organ (the tips of the 
fingers) into contact with a large number of objects, and 
further to gain impressions of these in rapid succession, 
and so discriminate them better one from the other. 

This widening and perfecting of passive impressions is, 

* This knowledge is less valuable than that of form or weight, 
partly because sensations of temperature are very variable, depending 
on the temperature of the organ itself, and partly because the temper- 
ature of bodies is a changing state, and not a fixed, invariable property, 
as weight. 



MUSCULAR SENSE. q3 

however, only one part of the gain resulting from the high 
degree of mobility of the hand and the eye. Another and 
no less important part is the new experience which accom- 
panies these movements, and which constitutes a distinct 
and very important source of knowledge. This experience 
is known as the muscular sense. 

Muscular Sense.— By this expression is meant the 
sum of those peculiar " sensations " of which we are aware 
when we voluntarily exercise our muscles. These have 
well-marked characters of their own. They constitute 
distinctly active states. In singing, in moving the arm or 
leg, in pushing a heavy body, we have a sense of being 
bodily active, or of exerting muscular energy. 

The muscular sense is important both as a source of 
pleasure and as a means of knowledge. The child de- 
lights to exercise his muscles, to feel his bodily power. 
Certain modes of muscular exercise, as rapid rhythmical 
movement, are known to be specially exhilarating. It is, 
however, chiefly as a source of knowledge that we shall 
now regard it. 

The sensations which accompany muscular action may 
be conveniently divided into two main varieties. These 
are {a) sensations of movement or of unimpeded energy, 
and ip) sensations of strain or resistance, that is, of ob- 
structed or impeded energy. The first are illustrated in 
the sensations which attend movements of the arms or 
legs in empty space ; the second are exemplified in the 
sensations which accompany the act of pushing against a 
heavy object, or holding a heav/ weight in the hand. 

(a) Sensations of movement present two well-marked 
differences of quality: (i) In the first place, they vary 
in character according to the direction of the movement. 
The movement effected by one muscle or group of mus- 
cles is felt to be unlike that carried out by another. Thus 
the sensations attending the movements of the arm to the 
right and to the left, up and down, are qualitatively un- 



94 THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 

like. And it is this difference in the sensations which 
enables us to ascertain what is the particular direction of 
any movement which we are executing. (2) In the second 
place, these sensations vary in character according to the 
velocity of the movement. The experience of moving the 
arm quickly differs materially from that of moving it slow- 
ly. And we are able to distinguish many degrees of ve- 
locity. 

{p) The sensations which arise when muscular energy 
is impeded, as when we push with the shoulder or arms 
against a heavy body, drag it, or lift it, have a distinct 
character of their own. They have been called sensations 
of resistance, or " dead strain." They exhibit, like those 
of movement, nice distinctions of degree. We experience 
a difference of sensation in pushing a heavy table and one 
less heavy, and in lifting a pound and twenty ounces. 

Each of these modes of muscular experience consti- 
tutes an important additional source of tactile knowledge. 
In truth, our information respecting the most fundamental 
properties of things would be very vague and rudimentary 
but for the addition of the muscular sense. 

In the first place, it is the sensations of resistance 
which give the child its immediate knowledge of the 
deepest and most characteristic property of material 
things, viz., what is known as impenetrability, under its 
various modes, as hardness, density, inelasticity, etc. 
The mere sense of pressure gained by way of an im- 
mobile organ, say a paralyzed limb, could never supply 
any distinct knowledge of this property ; this is directly 
revealed in the experience of exerting our own energy 
and finding it impeded by a force other than our own. 
All our customary estimates of the degrees of hardness, 
etc., of substances, are arrived at by the aid of muscular 
discrimination. Further, the discrimination of weight, 
though possible to a certain extent by way of passive 
touch, is much more accurate when the muscular sense is 



HEARING. 95 

called in to help. If a person wants to estimate a weight 
nicely, he lifts it and judges by means of the degree of 
force he has to expend in so doing. 

In the second place, the sensations of movement are 
an important factor in the knowledge of the extendedness 
of things, of the relative position of points, and of the 
shape and size of objects. The rudimentary and vague 
knowledge obtainable by means of the local discrimina- 
tion of the skin needs to be rendered distinct and exact 
by means of movement. Thus, as any one can prove for 
himself, the idea of the shape and size of a small pencil, 
or of a ring, is made much clearer when we pass the 
finger-tip along it or round it, and so judge of it by the 
direction and length of the movements. The blind 
habitually examine the form of objects by the aid of 
movement. 

Hearing. — The sense of hearing ranks high both as 
a source of pleasure and as an intellectual or knowledge- 
giving sense. The sensations which form the material of 
music, those of pitch, together with their combinations in 
rhythm, melody, etc., are among the most agreeable of 
our sense-experiences. But the refined pleasures of music 
presuppose intellectual capability in the shape of the dis- 
crimination of notes, etc. The intellectual value of hear- 
ing is due to the high degree of definiteness of its sen- 
sations. In respect both of intensity and of quality fine 
differences are recognizable. 

The high intellectual character of hearing shows itself 
very conspicuously in the qualitative differences among 
sensations of sound. We have here the broad contrast 
between musical and non-musical sounds or noises. The 
former depend on regularly recurring or periodic vibra- 
tions of the air, the latter on irregularly recurring or non- 
periodic vibrations. In the case of musical sounds we 
have the remarkable phenomenon of a scale of quality. 
If we pass upward from a low note to a higher one 



96 THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 

through all distinguishable gradations, we experience a 
continuous variation of sensation which is known as that 
of pitch or height. These differences of pitch answer to 
changes in the rate of vibration of the medium (the 
atmosphere) ; the higher the note, the more rapid are the 
vibrations. Our musical scale is made up of distinct 
steps or intervals of this continuous series of gradual 
changes. 

Along with this scale of pitch-quality, there are the 
differences known as timbre or "musical quality." These 
are the qualitative differences in sensations of tone an- 
swering to differences in the instrument, as the piano, the 
violin, the human voice. 

In addition to this wide range of musical sensation the 
ear distinguishes a vast number of non-musical sounds, 
the characteristic '' noises " of different substances, such as 
the roar of the sea, the rustling of leaves, and the crack of 
a whip. We distinguish noises as jarring, grating, ex- 
plosive, and so on. It is this side of hearing which is of 
value for the knowledge of external things. The child 
learns to recognize the characteristic sounds produced by 
moving objects, as the plash of water, the rumbling of 
wheels, etc. 

Finally, there are what are known as articulate sounds, 
those which constitute the elements of speech. These 
differ from one another partly in point of musical quality. 
Thus, it has been recently ascertained that the several 
vowel-sounds differ from one another in much the same 
way as the tones of different musical instruments. On the 
other hand, the differences of consonantal sounds are non- 
musical in character. In the ordinary classification of 
these into the gutturals, sibilants, etc., we find differences 
analogous to those among noises. 

Enough has been said to illustrate the high degree of 
refinement characterizing the sense of hearing. The deli- 
cate and far-reaching discrimination of quality, aided by 



SIGHT. gy 

the fine discrimination of duration, enables the ear to ac- 
quire a good deal of exact information, as well as to gain 
a considerable amount of refined pleasure. The delight 
of music sums up the chief part of the latter. The former 
is illustrated in the wide range of knowledge derived by- 
way of that system of articulate sounds known as language. 

As a set-off against these advantages, we see that hear- 
ing has very little local discrimination. We can not dis- 
tinguish two or more simultaneous sounds with any nicety 
according to the position of their external source. Nor is 
the organ of hearing endowed with mobility as the hand 
is. Hence, hearing gives us no direct knowledge of the 
most important properties of objects, their size and shape. 

Sight. — The sense of sight is by common consent 
allowed the first place in the scale of refinement. To this 
fact there corresponds the delicate and intricate structure 
of the organ, and the subtile nature of the stimulus (ether- 
vibration). The eye surpasses all other sense-organs both 
in the range and in the delicacy of its impressions. These 
are at once the source of some of the purest and most re- 
fined enjoyment, the pleasures of light, color, and form, 
and of some of the most valuable of our knowledge. 

In the first place, the eye is fairly discriminative of 
degree. These degrees answer to all distinguishable grades 
of brightness or luminosity from the self-luminous bodies 
which we are only just capable of looking at, down to the 
objects which reflect a minimum of light, and are known 
as black. This discrimination is very fine, as may be seen 
in our ability to note subtile differences of light and shade, 
and this delicacy is of the greatest importance in the visual 
discrimination of objects. 

In sight, again, we have numerous and fine differences 
of quality. Of these the most important are color-differ- 
ences. The impressions of color, like those of pitch, fall 
into a series of gradual changes. Passing from one ex- 
tremity of the spectrum (or rainbow) scale to another, the 



98 



THE SENSES: SENSE-DI SCRIMINATION. 



eye experiences a series of perfectly gradual transitions. 
These changes fall into the series, violet, blue, green, yel- 
low, orange, and red, together with certain finer distinc- 
tions, as indigo-blue, greenish blue. These differences of 
quality accompany (as in the case of pitch-sensations) 
changes in the rapidity of the vibrations of the stimulus, 
viz., the rays of light. The rays at the violet end have 
more rapid vibrations than those at the red end. These 
color-impressions, while an important element of artistic 
pleasure, are of great intellectual importance. The eye 
learns to know and to recognize things in pan by means 
of their colors. 

In addition to these differences of degree and quality 
in the sensations of sight, we hs.ve in this sense, as in that 
of touch, two endowments which furnish the basis of a 
perception of extension and space, including the form and 
magnitude of objects. The first of these is the discrimi- 
nation of points by means of the distinct nerve-fibers, which 
terminate in a mosaic-like arrangement in the retina. 
Owing to this endowment, we can distinguish two points 
of light, say two stars, when they lie very near one another. 
This discrimination of points is finest in the central region 
of the retina, known as the area of perfect vision. It is 
by aid of this local discrimination that we are able in one 
glance to distinguish a number of details of form, such 
as the various parts of a flower or the several letters of a 
word. 

Valuable as this retinal discrimination of points is in 
the perception of form, it needs to be supplemented by 
the muscular activity of the eye. The organ of sight is 
supplied with a system of muscles, by means of which it 
executes a large variety of delicate and precise movements. 
Sight is thus, like touch, an active sense. One result of 
this activity, as in the case of touch, is to bring the most 
sensitive part of the organ opposite the object we wish to 
examine. In fixing the eye on a point, we are obtaining a 



SENSE-IMPRESSIONS. 99 

retinal image of it on the area of perfect vision. Another 
result is that, in the act of moving the eye from point to 
point of an object or of a scene, we bring the muscular' 
sense into play, and thus gain a better impression of the 
relative position of the visible points, and of the form and 
magnitude of objects. It is by tracing the path of a line 
with the eye that we can best appreciate its perfect straight- 
ness, or the exact degree of its curvature. In early life 
more particularly this is the customary mode of acquiring 
knowledge of form. 

Attention to Sense-Impressions.— For the pro- 
duction of clear sense-impressions it is not enough that 
the sense-organ be stimulated. There must be a reaction 
of the brain-centers and the co-operation of the mind in 
the act of attention. Till this reaction follows, the im- 
pression must, as pointed out in the preceding chapter, 
remain vague and indistinct. This direction of mental 
activity to an impression is the immediate condition of 
assimilating it as intellectual material. By fixing the men- 
tal glance on it, the intellectual functions are brought to 
bear on it, and so it is drawn into the store of our mental 
possessions, ready to be woven into the fabric of knowl- 
edge. 

Discrimination of Sensation.— At any one time we 
may be acted upon by a multitude of external stimuli, 
sights, sounds, etc. These present themselves at first as 
a blurred or confused mass. The direction of attention 
to any one of them separates it from the adjacent crowd 
and gives distinctness to it. This fact may also be ex- 
pressed by saying that it is " differenced " or discriminated. 
To have a clear and definite sensation is to distinguish it 
as something from the other sensations immediately pre- 
ceding and accompanying it. As we have seen, this dis- 
crimination is much finer in the case of the higher senses 
— touch, hearing, and sight. 

Identification of Sense-Impressions.— The direc- 



lOO THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 

tion of the attention to a sense-impression leads on not 
only to the discrimination of it. After the repetition of 
sensations of color, for example, a new sensation is at 
once identified, as one of yellow, green. This involves the 
persistence of traces of past similar sensations, and is a 
rudimentary form of that assimilation of new material to 
old on which all intellectual development depends. 

Identification is exact in proportion to the fineness of 
the discrimination. If a child can only say a certain col- 
or is red, without being able to identify the precise shade 
of red, he shows that his discrimination of color is only 
partially developed. 

Growth of Sense-Capacity.— From the above, it 
follows that there is an improvement of sense as life ad- 
vances. Although the child has the same sense-organs 
and the same fundamental modes of sensibility as the 
man, his sensations are more crude, vague, and ill-defined. 
The repeated exercise of the senses in connection with 
and under the control of attention leads to the gradual 
differentiation of the several orders of sense-impression, 
and the rendering of them definite in their character. 
This growth of sense involves two things : {a) an increas- 
ing power of sense-discrimination, and {fi) a growth in the 
power of identifying impressions through the cumulation 
of "traces." In other words, our senses become more 
delicate or acute in distinguishing impressions, and more 
quick or keen in identifying them. 

Improvement of Sense-Discrimination.— Of these 
two aspects of sense-improvement, the discriminative is 
the more important, since it limits the other. The infant's 
sensations are at first confused one with another. The 
first distinctions (next to that of the pleasurable and pain- 
ful) are those of degree or quantity. Thus, the visual im- 
pressions of light and darkness, of a bright and a dark 
surface, are distinguished before those of colors. As the 
senses are exercised, and attention brought to bear on 



VARYING SENSE-CAPACITY. loi 

their impressions, discrimination improves. With respect 
both to degree and to quality this improvement is gradual, 
beginning with the detection of broad and striking con- 
trasts, and proceeding to that of finer differences. Thus, 
the contrast of loud and soft, of heavy and light, is arrived 
at long before nice differences of loudness or weight. 
Similarly, the contrast of the reds with the blues is arrived 
at before the finer differences between the several sorts of 
red.* In this way the senses become more acute with ex- 
ercise. 

Differences of Sense-Capacity. — Striking differ- 
ences of sense-capacity present themselves among differ- 
ent individuals. These are of various kinds. Thus, A 
may be superior to B in respect of what is called absolute 
sensibility, or the quickness of response to stimulus. One 
child is much more readily impressed by a faint smell or 
sound than another. The tendency to respond to a very 
weak stimulus, coupled with good retentive or identifying 
power, would constitute a keen sense in the full meaning 
of the word, that is, one which readily notes and identifies 
impressions. 

From these differences we must carefully separate in- 
equalities in discriminative power. This is the important in- 
tellectual side of sense-capacity. It is found to character- 
ize the more educated and intellectual classes. It does not 
vary with absolute sensibility. A may be more quickly 
responsive to a stimulus than B, and yet not be more dis- 
criminative. 

These differences of discriminative capacity may be of 
a more general, or of a special kind. Thus, A may sur- 

* The exact order in which the colors are distinguished is not cer- 
tain, and probably varies somewhat in the case of different children. 
Prof. Preyer experimented with his little boy at the age of two, and 
found that he learned to identify colors on hearing their names in the 
following order : yellow, red, lilac, green, and blue. (" Die Seele des 
Kindes," p. 6, etc. ; cf. Perez, " First Three Years of Childhood," p. 
26, etc.) 



I02 THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 

pass B in his average sense-discrimination. Or he may- 
surpass the other in some special mode of discriminative 
sensibility, as in the discrimination of colors or tones. 

These inequalities are partly native and connected 
with differences in the organs engaged. Good average 
discriminative power probably implies from the first a fine 
organization of the brain as a whole and special concen- 
trative ability, whereas a particularly fine sensibility to 
color, to tone, and so on, is connected rather with original 
structural excellence of the particular sense-organ con- 
cerned. It is this which fixes and limits the ultimate de- 
gree of delicacy reached. A child naturally dull in dis- 
tinguishing notes or colors will never become finely dis- 
criminative in this particular region. At the same time, 
the remarkable superiority of certain individuals (and 
race:) over others in respect of definite varieties of dis- 
criminative sensibility presupposes special concentration 
of mind and prolonged exercise of the discriminative func- 
tion in this particular domain of impressions. This is 
strikingly illustrated in the exceptional delicacy attained 
by those who have occasion to employ a sense much more 
than other people. In this way we account for the fine 
tactile sensibility of the blind, the delicate gustatory sensi- 
bility of wine- or tea-tasters, and so on. 

The Training of the Senses.~By the training or 
cultivation of the senses is meant the systematic exercis- 
ing of the sense-organs (and of the attention in connec- 
tion of these) so as to make them efficient instruments of 
observation and discovery. The first branch of this train- 
ing is the developing by suitable exercises of the discrim- 
inative side of the senses. The special object of this 
branch is to render the senses quick and exact in seizing 
the precise shades of difference among the several impres- 
sions presented to them. And the importance of this 
exercise in sense-discrimination depends on the fact that, 
in proportion as we discriminate our sense-impressions 



MENTAL ELEMENT IN SENSATION. 



103 



finely, shall we be able to distinguish and know objects 
accurately, and, as a result of this, be afterward able to 
call up distinct images of them, and to think and reason 
about them. Indeed, distinct and sharply defined sense- 
impressions are the first condition of clear imagination 
and exact thinking. The child that confuses its impres- 
sions of color, form, etc., will as a consequence be only 
able to imagine and think in a hazy and confused manner. 

The exercise of the senses implies the direction of 
attention on the part of the child to what is present. It 
is thus, strictly speaking, the exercises of the mind under 
the stimulus of sense-impressions. Sense-knowledge is 
gained by the young mind coming into contact with things 
immediately, and not mediately by the intervention of 
another mind. Hence the function of the educator in 
this first stage of the growth of knowledge is a limited 
one. A good part of the exercise of the senses in early 
life goes on, and it is fortunate that it does so, with very 
little help from mother or nurse. The child's own ac- 
tivity, if he is healthy and robust, will urge him to use 
his eyes, his hands, and other organs in exploring things 
about him. 

Nevertheless, a good deal may be done indirectly to 
help on this process of acquisition. The mother has the 
control of the child's surroundings, and may do much to 
hasten or retard the development of sense-knowledge by 
a wise attention to them or an indolent neglect of them. 
To supply children from the first with suitable materials 
for the exercise of their sense-organs, is the first and 
probably most important part of what is meant by train- 
ing the senses, at least in very early life. Next to this 
comes the more direct co-operation of mother, nurse, or 
teacher in directing their attention to unnoticed sights 
and sounds, etc., in their surroundings. 

Method of Training. — The training of the senses 
begins with the exercising the child in the discrimination 



104 



THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 



and along with this in the identification of impressions. 
This may be carried out in a less systematic way in the 
nursery. The infant's surroundings, the toys to be 
handled, the pictures to be looked at, and even the tones 
of voice used in addressing it, should be chosen with a 
view to a sufficient variety of impression. The natural 
order of sense-development must be followed, the first 
differences brought under his notice being broad contrasts, 
as that of a hard and soft material, blue and yellow colors, 
high and low tones, and finer distinctions following. With 
variety should go a certain amount of repetition of im- 
pressions, so that the pupil be exercised in identifying im- 
pressions. Hence the surroundings should not be con- 
tinually changed. A measure of sameness and perma- 
nence is necessary to thorough familiarity with the various 
sorts of sense-material. 

A more systematic procedure can be gradually intro- 
duced, aiming at a full and accurate knowledge of the 
several sense-elements. Thus, in training the color-sense 
the educator may best proceed by selecting first of all a 
few bright and striking colors, as white, red, and blue. 
Each of these must be made famiUar and its name learned. 
After being presented separately, they should be shown in 
juxtaposition, so that the differences may be clearly seen. 
This involves a rudimentary exercise of the faculty of 
comparison which in its higher form plays an important 
part in thought. Juxtaposition, or the bringing of two 
things side by side in space, or, as in the case of sounds, 
in immediate succession in time, is the most valuable 
instrument in exercising the senses. By seeing two colors 
side by side, the individual character of each is made 
more apparent, and the precise amount of difference ap- 
preciated. 

When a few elements have thus been thoroughly 
learned, new ones may be added. In this way the child 
will not only add to its stock of sense-materials, but will 



DANGER OF OVER-EXERTION. 105 

have its former impressions rendered still more definite 
by a grasp of more numerous and finer differences. Thus, 
by adding yellow, orange, and so on, the learner will at- 
tain to more distinct ideas of what is meant by red. 

It must not be forgotten that these finer exercises in 
sense-discrimination imply a severe effort of attention, and 
are apt to be felt as a strain at first, both to the sense-organ 
concerned, and to the brain. And it is of the highest im- 
portance not to push them to the point of fatigue. Thus 
in training the eye to a minute detection of differences of 
form in letters, etc., and the hand to the nice reproduc- 
tion of these differences, there is special danger of over- 
stimulating the organ and inducing fatigue, and, if per- 
sisted in, of causing injury to the organ. 

If, however, the risk of over-exertion be avoided, it is 
possible, by proceeding judiciously, not only to keep these 
exercises from becoming wearisome, but even to make 
them positively agreeable. The main source of a pleas- 
urable interest here is the child's love of activity, mental 
and bodily. The very employment of the sense-organs is 
a pleasure to the healthy and strong child. This pleasure 
will be the greater when muscular activity is also enlisted, 
and an appeal made to the little one's nascent feeling of 
power. Thus, in training the color-sense, after presenting 
unlike and like colors to the child's notice, he may be en- 
couraged to select and sort the colors for himself. The 
active exercises of painting, drawing, and singing, in order 
to reproduce impressions of sight and sound, are the best 
means of training the corresponding senses. 

Training of the Several Senses.— All the senses 
need exercise, but in different ways. The lower senses, 
being of but little value as knowledge-giving senses, claim 
less consideration from the intellectual educator. The 
cultivation and control of the palate have, however, an im- 
portant bearing on physical education, on the disciplining 
of the body to healthy habits ; and the due limitation of 
10 



I06 THE SENSES: SENSE-DISCRIMINATION. 

the pleasures of taste, the checking of that common child- 
ish vice, Nascherei, is one of the most valuable among the 
early exercises in the virtue of temperance. Again, the 
cultivation of the sense of smell, of sensibility to the 
odors of flower and herb, pasture and wood, summer and 
autumn, is an important ingredient in the formation of 
aesthetic taste, and more especially the development of 
that love of nature which is a prime factor in all real en- 
joyment of poetry. 

From its great importance, touch claims special con- 
sideration in the education of the senses. The develop- 
ment of this sense is secured, to a large extent, by the 
child's own spontaneous promptings to handle and ex- 
amine things. Still, the teacher may supplement this 
irregular self-instruction by special systematic exercises. 
The Kindergarten occupations, such as stick-laying, paper- 
folding, modeling in clay, etc., all serve to increase the 
discriminative sensibility of the organ of touch on its pas- 
sive and on its active side. The teaching of the rudi- 
ments of drawing and writing completes this branch of 
sense-training. The perfect command of the hand in ex- 
ecuting movements with a nice precision is the outcome 
of a fine muscular sensibility developed by special con- 
centration of the attention, and by practice. 

The training of the ear is a well-acknowledged depart- 
ment of elementary education. In learning to articulate 
and to read, the child is called on first of all to distinguish 
a number of elementary sounds as well as to discriminate 
combinations of these. Along with this the muscular 
sense is exercised in so managing the organ of speech as 
to reproduce the precise sound required. Much the same 
holds good with respect to the systematic exercise of the 
ear in singing. Here, too, sounds have to be distin- 
guished and identified. The first condition of singing 
accurately is to have a finely discriminative ear which will 
instantly detect the slightest degree of flatness or sharp- 



TRAIMNG OF THE SEVERAL SENSES. 107 

ness in the notes sung. And in conjunction with this, the 
vocal organ must be exercised so that the modifications 
answering to differences of pitch and force may be clearly 
distinguished and retained for future use. 

The eye calls for the most careful and prolonged train- 
ing, on account both of its intellectual and its aesthetic im- 
portance. A systematic training of the color-sense, some- 
what after the plan roughly sketched above, is a desidera- 
tum both as an element of taste and as a matter of prac- 
tical utility. And a careful discipline of the sense of form 
on its passive and actiye side is included in the recognized 
school exercises of reading, drawing, writing, etc. In truth, 
in this early stage of education the cultivation of the eyes 
goes on in close association with that of the hand. The 
whole fruit of this companionship will appear by-and-by. 
The separate exercise of the eye in the discrimination of 
form-elements is illustrated in learning to read printed let- 
ters as well as in the study of geometry. 

Nowhere, perhaps, is the limit of the teacher's power 
more plainly seen than in the education of the senses. 
Since discriminative power depends on concentration of 
mind and practice, the child's ability to discriminate col- 
ors, tones, elements of form, etc., may be improved by ju- 
dicious learning. Still, in every case a limit is sure to be 
reached in time, beyond which no further distinctions are 
possible. This limit, set by the structural perfection of 
the organ concerned, is a different one for different chil- 
dren. A child born note-deaf, for example, can never be 
drilled into a fine discriminator of tones. Hence the need 
of varying these exercises according to the capacity of the 
pupil and the results obtainable from the exercise. 
APPENDIX. 

A useful account of the senses, from a physiological point of view, 
is contained in Prof. Bernstein's "Five Senses of Man." On the im- 
portance of the exercise and improvement of sense-discrimination, the 
reader may consult Dr. Bain's " Education as a Science," chap. iii. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE senses: observation of things. 

Definition of Perception. — Sense-impressions are 
the alphabet by which we spell out the objects presented 
to us. In order to grasp or apprehend these objects, these 
letters must be put together after the manner of words. 
Thus, the apprehension of an apple by the eye involves the 
putting together of various sensations of sight, touch, and 
taste. This is the mind's own work, and is known as per- 
ception. And the result of this activity, i, e., the distinct 
apprehension of some object, is called a percept. 

We see from this that perception is an act of the mind. 
In the reception of the sense-impression, the mind is pas- 
sive, dependent on the action of an external force ; but 
in construing this as the sign of some external object, it is 
essentially active. Perception is mental activity employed 
about sense-impressions with a view to knowledge. The 
first stage of this activity was discussed in the last chapter, 
under the head of sense-discrimination. This corresponds 
to the learning of the several letters. We have now to 
consider the second stage, that corresponding to the learn- 
ing of words and their meanings. We have to explain 
how a child comes to regard its sense-impressions as signs 
of the presence of certain external objects, as, for exam- 
ple, certain sensations of sound as indications of a bell 
ringing, a dog barking, etc. 

How Percepts are reached.— The seemingly simple 



HO IV PERCEPTS ARE REACHED. 109 

act of referring a sense-impression to an external object is 
the result of a process of learning or acquisition. As lit- 
tle as a child at first knows the meaning of a word till 
experience has taught him, so little is he able to construe 
his sense-impressions as the signs of objects. In the first 
weeks of life a child can not recognize the external source 
of the sounds that strike on his ear. He has not learned 
to connect the sound of the mother's voice with the mother 
he sees ; nor has he even learned to recognize the direc- 
tion of a sound, as is clearly shown by the blank, wonder- 
ing look of his face, and the absence of a proper move- 
ment of the head and eyes in the direction of the sound. 

The apprehension of an object, say a bell, by the ear, 
involves two mental processes : The first is the discrimi- 
nation and identification of the impression. In order to 
know that a particular impression of sound is that of a 
bell, it must be identified as this impression and not anoth- 
er, say that of a voice. This constitutes the first step in 
the process of perception. It may be marked off as the 
presentative or prehensive element. It presupposes pre- 
vious experience of the impressions. Thus the child can 
not identify a particular sound as that of a bell till after a 
number of repetitions of this impression. 

In the second place, the apprehension of the bell im- 
plies that this particular impression has been interpreted 
as coming from a particular object, viz., the bell. And this 
means that on hearing this sound the child recalls the ap- 
pearance of the bell to sight and its tactile qualities, hard- 
ness, weight, etc. That is to say, the one actual sensation 
of the moment, that of the sound, has recalled and rein- 
stated a whole group of impressions answering to the several 
features or qualities which constitute the object. This sec- 
ond step may be called the interpretative or apprehensive part 
of the process. And since the impressions recalled are 
not directly presented but only represented, this step is 
further known as the representative one. This act of 



no THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 

construing or interpreting the impression presupposes that 
in the child's past experience the impression of sound has 
become connected with other impressions. 

We see from this that the interpretation of sense-im- 
pressions presupposes previous processes of a complex 
kind, viz., discriminating a number of sensations of differ- 
ent senses, and grouping or organizing these into a coher- 
ent whole. There are thus two stages in the development 
of percepts: (i) the initial stage of examining things, by- 
way of the different senses and learning to know them ; 
and (2) the final stage of knowing again or recognizing a 
thing. 

Special Channels of Perception. — The sensation 
of each sense tends to recall the other sensations of the 
group to which they belong, and so are capable of being 
interpreted by an act of perception. Thus, a child refers 
sensations of smell to objects, as when he says, " I smell 
apples," just as he refers sensations of light and color to 
objects, as when he says, " I see a candle." Nevertheless, 
when we talk of perceiving we generally refer to knowl- 
edge gained at the time through one of the higher senses, 
and more particularly sight. To perceive a thing means, 
in every-day parlance, to see it. Where sight is wanting, 
touch assumes the function of the leading perceptual 
sense ; and even in the case of those who see, touch is an 
important medium of apprehending objects. Sight and 
touch are thus in a special manner channels of perception. 

The reason why the senses of touch and sight are thus 
distinguished has been hinted at in the previous chapter. 
We there saw that they were marked off from the other 
senses by having local discrimination and an accompani- 
ment of muscular sensation. Owing to these circumstances, 
these two senses supply us with a wider and more varied 
knowledge of objects than the other senses. In smelling 
a flower, or hearing the noise of a passing vehicle, I can 
only seize one aspect or quality of a thing ; in looking at 



PERCEPTIONS OF TOUCH. m 

it I instantly take in a number of aspects, as its color, 
shape, and size. 

The additional knowledge, gained by means of local 
discrimination and movement, is, moreover, of a most im- 
portant kind. This includes first the knowledge of the 
position of things, and along with this a knowledge of 
their ''geometrical" or space properties, viz., figure and 
magnitude. And, secondly, it includes a knowledge of 
their " mechanical " or force properties, viz., resistance 
under its several forms of hardness, weight, etc., as made 
known by active touch. And these properties are the 
most essential, forming the kernel, so to speak, of what we 
mean by a material object. 

Touch and sight do not stand on precisely the same 
level as channels of perception. For, first of all, as we 
shall see presently, the knowledge of geometric properties 
is fuller and more direct in the case of touch than in that 
of sight. And, secondly, with respect to the important 
mechanical properties, hardness, weight, etc., our knowl- 
edge is altogether derived from touch. Hence, tactile 
apprehension is to be regarded as the primary and most 
fundamental form of perception. 

Perceptions of Touch. — These may be roughly di- 
vided into (i) perceptions of space and extension, and more 
especially the position, form, and magnitude of objects; 
and (2) perceptions of things as concrete wholes, such as 
a pebble, an orange, etc. 

The first kind of perception may be illustrated by the 
way in which a child learns the shape and size of a cube, 
say a small wooden brick. Here the sensibility of the skin 
to pressure, its local discrimination, and, lastly, the mus- 
cular sense, all combine in the development of the percept. 
The form of one of the surfaces is ascertained in different 
ways : (i) by moving the fingers over it in various direc- 
tions and noting how long the contact with the body lasts ; 
(2) by passing the fingers about the boundary of the sur- 



112 THE^ SENSES : OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 

face and noting the uniformity of the direction of the 
movement along each edge, the length of the movement, 
and the change < f direction at the angles ; and (3) by plac- 
ing the extended hand over the surface and noting, by 
means of the local discrimination of the skin, where the 
edges touch the hand. The knowledge of any one of its 
surfaces would thus involve the grouping of many sense- 
elements together, and the knowledge of the whole cubical 
form would further involve the grouping of a number of 
these groups together and the completion of this aggregate 
of experiences by taking the brick into the two hands, and 
so gaining a clearer idea of its solidity. 

After repeating this complex act of tactile inspection 
again and again, the different members of the group would 
cohere so closely that the recurrence of a part would suf- 
fice to reinstate the whole. Thus the child, on merely 
taking the brick into his hands, would recall the successive 
experiences of movement just described. That, in this 
way, a child is able to gain very clear perceptions of form, 
is seen in the fact that the blind are capable of picturing 
and reasoning about geometrical forms with great clear- 
ness. And even in the case of children who have the use 
of their eyes, the earliest impressions of form are gained 
from tangible bodies, and to a large extent by the medium 
of active touch. 

In apprehending the presence of a whole concrete 
thing, as a pebble, this group of impressions would be 
taken up into a still larger aggregate. Thus, in learning 
what a pebble is, a child connects what he has observed 
respecting its form with the hardness, coldness, smooth- 
ness, and weight. His knowledge of the pebble is the re- 
sult of all this various sense-experience organized or united 
into a seemingly simple mental product. Where, as in the 
case of an apple or an orange, the other senses supply im- 
portant elements (color, taste, and smell), the group of 
tactile impressions is ample for a subsequent identification 



PERCEPTION OF FORM BY THE EYE. 113 

of the object. The child, on touching an orange, instantly 
apprehends the thing as a whole, that is, recognizes it as 
an orange. 

Visual Perception.— As remarked above, sight is in 
normal circumstances the leading avenue of perception. 
This supremacy is due in part to the fact that in looking 
we can apprehend things at a distance as well as near, and 
also a number of objects at the same time, as the pictures 
on the wall, the buildings of a street, etc. To this must 
be added the fact that when we see things we can tell how 
they would appear to touch. In other words, we translate 
visual impressions into terms of the earlier and more ele- 
mentary experiences of active touch. Seeing is thus to a 
large extent a representative process and an interpretative 
act of the mind. 

Perception of Form by the Eye.— In the perception 
of form the eye is up to a certain point independent of the 
hand. Thus, in learning the direction and length of lines, 
and the form and magnitude of objects as they might be 
drawn on a blackboard, the organ of sight is developing 
its own mode of perception. This visual perception, it is 
plain, resembles the tactile perception in so far as it arises 
out of a number of experiences, passive and active. Thus, 
in finding out, by looking at the gable of a house, what a 
triangle is, the child combines the experience gained in 
moving the eye about the contour, with the composite im- 
pression obtained by the local discrimination of the several 
parts by the retina. The precise direction and length of 
each line presuppose these movements of the eye along 
the outline of the object. It is only when these have been 
executed many times that the perception of form by the 
eye at rest becomes distinct. And this means that in look- 
ing at a figure the impression of the retina suffices to recall 
the experience of the moving eye. 

The perception of any form, such as a cross, an ellipse, 
or the letter M, is the outcome of a process of combining 



114 



THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 



a number of form-elements or details and clearly appre- 
hending their relations one to another. Thus, in appre- 
hending the form of the cross the learner must distinguish 
the vertical and horizontal arm, observing their directions 
as well as their relative lengths. The more exactly each 
element is discriminated, and the more clearly the rela- 
tions of position, proportion, and number are seized, the 
more perfect the final percept. 

This perception of form as plane form, or form as it 
can be represented on a flat surface, as a blackboard, is, 
however, fragmentary and abstract. The forms of real 
objects from which a child first gains his knowledge are 
those of solid bodies having the third dimension, thick- 
ness or depth as well as length and breadth. We see one 
part of the surface of a sphere nearer the eye or advanc- 
ing, another part farther off or receding. This discrimi- 
nation of a solid form as distinguished from a flat drawing 
involves the perception of distance. 

Perception of Distance and Solidity.— The modern 
"Theory of Vision," of which Bishop Berkeley was the 
author, tells us that the perception of distance, though 
apparently as direct as that of color, is really indirect and 
acquired. In seeing an object at a certain distance, we 
are really interpreting visual impressions by a reference to 
movement of the limbs and to touch. We can only real- 
ize the distance of an object by traversing, either with the 
arm or with the whole body, the space that intervenes be- 
tween us and it. 

According to this doctrine, children do not at first see 
things as we see them, one nearer than another. This is 
proved by the experience of blind children on first obtain- 
ing the use of their eyes. All objects appear to such as 
touching the eyes. And they can not distinguish between 
a flat drawing and a solid body. It is only after using 
their eyes for some time that they learn to distinguish near 
and far. The development of the perception of distance 



PERCEPTION OF DISTANCE AND SOLIDITY. 115 

takes place by the use of sight and touch together. A 
child finds out how far a thing is from himself by moving his 
limbs. Thus, an infant sitting up at a table finds out the 
distance of something on the table by stretching out its 
hands and noting how far it has to reach before it touches 
the thing. When it is able to run about, the movements of 
its legs become another measure of distance. In carrying 
out these movements the eyes are also employed. The 
child notes the difference to the eye when the object is 
near and when it is farther away. Thus, he observes 
that he has to make his eyes turn inward or converge more 
in the former case, and that the object looks more distinct. 
After many repetitions he learns to connect these experi- 
ences of active touch and these changing effects on the 
eye. When this process of grouping or organizing experi- 
ences is complete, the recurrence of the proper visual ex- 
perience at once suggests the corresponding experience of 
movement and touch. Thus the sensation of muscular 
strain in looking at a near object instantly tells him that 
the object is near and within his reach. The visual sen- 
sation has become a sign of a fact known by the use of 
his limbs. Seeing distance is thus a kind of reading, and 
the meaning of the impression on the eye, like that of the 
letters in a book, has to be learned from experience.* 

The perception of solid bodies illustrates the same 
thing. Here, too, the child has to interpret his visual im- 
pressions by the aid of past experience and the knowledge 
gained by active touch. That the eye has little knowledge 
of solidity is seen in the fact that even an adult may easi- 
ly be deceived in taking flat drawings for solid objects 
(e. g., in the scenery of a theatre). The only way in which 
we can distinctly realize that an object has thickness is by 
taking it into the two hands. 

* The perception of the reai magnitude of an object, as distin- 
guished from the apparent magnitude which varies with the distance, is 
closely connected with that of distance. 



Il6 THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 

The apprehension of solidity by the eye is effected by 
means of certain signs. Thus, we can move the eye from 
a near to a more distant part of an object, and note the 
difference in muscular sensations of the eyes. Even when 
we do not move the eye, we have something to guide us in 
the dissimilarity of the two retinal impressions. In look- 
ing at a flat picture each eye receives a precisely similar 
impression ; but in looking at a solid body their impres- 
sions differ. Thus, in looking at a book held a little in 
front of the face with its back toward us, our left eye sees 
more of the left cover, while the right eye sees more of the 
right. It is by noting this dissimilarity, and connecting it 
with the fact of solidity as known by active touch, that a 
child learns to recognize a solid object with the eyes.* 

Intuition of Things. — In looking at an object, as 
in touching it, we apprehend simultaneously a group of 
qualities. These include first of all purely visual features, 
as its degree of brightness, the distribution of light and 
shade on its surface, its color (or distribution of colors), 
and the form and (apparent) magnitude of its surface. 
Along with these come the closely organized combinations 
of sight and touch, viz., the solid shape, and the nature of 
the surface as rough or smooth.f This may be called the 
fundamental part of our intuition of a particular object. 
In looking at a new object, as a crystal or a botanical 
specimen, we instantly intuit or take in this group of 
qualities, and they constitute a considerable amount of 
knowledge about the object as a whole. ,In order to know 
the thing as a whole, so as afterward to be able to recog- 
nize it with the eye, this aggregate must be conjoined with 
other qualities known by touch and by the other senses. 

* The fact that the perception of solidity depends mainly on the 
presence of two unlike visual impressions is proved by the stereoscope, 
the two drawings of which, taken from different points of view, answer 
to the two retinal images of a solid body. 

\ This is made known to sight by differences of light and shade. 



PERCEPTION OF OUR OWN BODY. 



17 



Thus, in recognizing an orange a child invests it more or 
less distinctly with a particular degree of hardness, weight, 
and temperature, as well as with a certain taste and smell. 

The recognition of a thing as identical with something 
previously perceived is a complex psychical process. It 
involves not only the identification of a definite group of 
impressions, but also the germ of a higher intellectual 
process, namely, the comparison of successive impressions, 
and the detection of similarity amid diversity or change. 
Thus, a child learns to identify a particular object, as his 
mother, or his dog, at different distances and in different 
lights, and — a matter of still greater difficulty — according 
to the particular position and visible aspect of the object, 
as seen from the front or from the side, etc. Children 
require a certain amount of experience and practice before 
they recognize identity amid such varying aspects. And 
in this they are greatly aided by hearing others call the 
thing by the same name. 

Perception of our own Body. — In close connection 
with the perception of external objects the child comes 
to know the several parts of his own body. The sensa- 
tions which are not referred to external bodies are local- 
ized by us in some part of our organism. Thus, organic 
sensations, as skin-sensations of "creeping," muscular 
sensations of cramp or fatigue, are localized in some defi- 
nite region of the body, the arm, or the foot. And the 
deep-seated feelings of comfort and discomfort connected 
with the organs of digestion, etc., are also localized in a 
less definite and vague manner. Such references are not 
possible at the beginning of life. A child has to learn 
where his bodily sensations are located ; and this he does 
by learning to know the several parts of his body. 

The child's own body, like an external object, is known 
by means of the impressions it supplies to his senses, and 
more particularly touch and sight. An infant examines 
its legs, arms, etc., with its hands. By frequent excur- 



Il8 THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 

sions of these over the surface of the body, the position, 
shape, and size of the several parts become known. The 
eyes, too, are engaged in these early observations, so that 
a visual picture is gradually put together and combined 
with the tactile perception. As this knowledge of the 
bodily form is developed the several bodily sensations 
become better localized. Thus, in inspecting his feet with 
his hands the child is producing sensations of pressure in 
the former. In this way the sensations having their origin 
in that particular region of the bodily surface come to be 
definitely connected with that part as known to touch and 
sight. After this, whenever the child receives a sensation 
by way of the nerves running to that part, he knows at 
once that it is his foot that is giving him the sensation. 

To a child his bodily organism is marked off from all 
other objects by the fact that it is connected in a peculiar 
way with his conscious life, and more particularly his feel- 
ings of pleasure and pain. The experience of pressing 
his foot with his hand differs from that of pressing a for- 
eign body, inasmuch as there is not only a sensation in 
the hand, but an additional one in the foot. Injuries to 
the several parts of the bodily surface, and the applica- 
tion of agreeable stimuli, as soft touches, come to be rec- 
ognized as causes of painful and pleasurable sensation. 
In these ways he comes to regard his body as that by 
which he suffers pain and pleasure. At the same time 
he learns that the movements' of his body are immediately 
under the control of his wishes, that his limbs are the 
instruments by which he reacts on his environment, alter- 
ing the position of objects, etc. Hence his body is re- 
garded as a part of himself, and in early life probably 
makes up the chief part of the meaning of the word *' self." 
It is contrasted with all other and foreign objects, and in 
a special way with the other human organisms he sees 
around him. 

Observation. — All perception requires some degree 



DISTINCT AND ACCURATE OBSERVATION, j 19 

of attention to what is present. But we are often able to 
discriminate and recognize an object by a momentary 
glance, which suffices to take in a few prominent marks. 
Similarly, we are able by a cursory glance to recognize a 
movement or action of an object. Such incomplete fugi- 
tive perception is ample for rough, every-day purposes. 
On the other hand, we sometimes need to throw a special 
degree of mental activity into perception, so as to note 
completely and accurately what is present. This is par- 
ticularly the case with new and unfamiliar objects. Such 
a careful direction of the mind to objects is commonly 
spoken of as observation. To observe is to look at a 
thing closely, to take careful note of its several parts or 
details. In its higher form, known as scientific observa- 
tion, it implies too a deliberate selection of an object or 
action for special consideration, a close concentration of 
the attention on it, and an orderly going to work with a 
view to obtain the most exact account of a phenomenon. 
Hence we may call observation regulated perception. 

Distinct and Accurate Observation.— Good ob- 
servation must be precise and free from taint of error. 
Many persons' observations are vague and wanting in full- 
ness of detail and precision. The habit of close and ac- 
curate observation of things, their features and their move- 
ments, etc., is one of the rarest of possessions. It presup- 
poses a strong interest in what is going on around us. 
This is illustrated in the fact that a child always observes 
closely and accurately when he is very deeply concerned, 
as, for example, in scrutinizing his mother's expression 
when he is not quite sure whether she is talking seriously 
to him or not. 

Good observation presupposes two things: (i) the ac- 
curate noting of what is directly presented to the eye, or 
the perfect performance of the prehensive part of the pro- 
cess, and (2) a just interpretation of the visual impression, 
or the perfect performance of the second or apprehensive 



120 THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 

part of the operation. Defects in the first are very com- 
mon. Children fail to note the exact form and size of 
objects, their situation relatively to other objects, etc. To 
see a number of objects in their real order, so as to be 
able to describe them accurately, is a matter of close, 
painstaking observation. 

Any defect in the prehensive part of the process natu- 
rally leads on to faulty interpretation. Hasty and slovenly 
observation of color, form, or magnitude leads the young 
to false ideas of the objects they see, as when a child mis- 
takes a lemon for an orange, two boys romping for two 
boys fighting. And even if the visual element is carefully 
noted, there will be an error of interpretation when the 
impression of the eye has not been firmly connected with 
the tactile and other experiences to which it is related as 
parts of one whole experience. Thus, if a child after see- 
ing some simple experiments with metals fails to properly 
connect the several properties of malleability, fusibility, 
with the lead, iron, etc., the sight of a piece of one of the 
metals will be apt to reinstate the wrong properties. We 
thus see that accurate knowing or recognition depends on 
a careful learning or coming to know. 

Defective and inaccurate observation is hindered by 
mental preoccupation. Dreamy and absent-minded chil- 
dren are, as a rule, bad observers. They only see things 
indistinctly as in a haze. Anything, too, in the shape of 
excitement and emotional agitation is inimical to careful 
observation, because it is apt to excite vivid expectations 
of what is going on, and so to lead to delusive perception. 
Thus, if a child strongly desires to go out, it is disposed 
to think that the rain has ceased when it is really still fall- 
ing. Emotional children are very apt to read what they 
wish and vividly imagine into the objects before them. 

We see, then, that while perception has its representa- 
tive element, that while the child who distinguishes his 
visual impressions accurately but is unable to interpret 



ACQUIREMENT OF DISCRIMINATION. 121 

them never attains to anything but useless scraps of knowl- 
edge, this representative factor has to be kept within due 
limits, and not allowed to hide from view what is actually 
before the eyes. 

The highest kind of observation combines accuracy 
with quickness. In many departments of observation, as 
watching people's expressions and actions, or the scientific 
observation of a rapid process of physical movement or 
change, such as an astronomical and chemical investiga- 
tion, rapidity is of the first consequence. 

Development of Perceptual Power. — Our analysis 
of perception has suggested the way in which our percepts 
are gradually built up and perfected. In the first weeks 
of life there is little if any recognition of outer things. 
The child receives visual impressions, but these are not 
yet referred to external objects. It is by the daily re- 
newed conjunctions of simple sense-experiences, and more 
particularly those of sight and of touch, that the little 
learner comes to refer its impressions to objects. By con- 
tinually looking at the objects handled, the visual percep- 
tion of direction becomes perfected, as also that of dis- 
tance within certain limits. The child learns to put out 
his hand in the exact direction of an object, and to move 
it just far enough.* The perception of the distance and 
solidity of more remote objects remains very imperfect 
before locomotion is attained. The change of visible 
scene as the child is carried about the room impresses 

* A child known to the present writer was first seen to stretch out 
his hand to an object when two and a half months old. The hand 
misses the exact point at first, passing beside it, but practice gives pre- 
cision to the movement. The same child at six months knew when an 
object was within reach. If a biscuit or other object was held out of 
his reach, he made no movement, but as soon as it was brought within 
his reach he instantly put out his hand to take it. On the other hand, 
Prof. Preyer says his boy tried to seize the lamp in the ceiling of a 
railway compartment when fifty-eight weeks old. (" Die Seele des 
Kindes," p. 38.) 



122 THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS, 

him, no doubt, but the meaning of these changes only be- 
comes fully seized when he begins to walk, and to find 
out the amount of locomotive exertion answering to the 
different appearances of things. It is some years, how- 
ever, before he begins to note the signs of distance in the 
case of remote objects. The same order shows itself with 
respect to the development of the perception of solidity. 
Thus a child learns in time to distinguish between the flat 
shadows of things on the walls and the pictures in his 
books, and real solid objects. But it is long before he 
learns that the distant hills and clouds are bulging, sub- 
stantial forms.* 

After many conjunctions of impressions children begin 
to find out the nature of objects as wholes, and the visible 
aspects which are their most important marks. That is 
to say, they begin to discriminate objects one from an- 
other by means of sight alone, and to recognize them as 
they reappear to the eye. Development follows here as 
elsewhere the line of interest. It is the objects of great- 
est interest, such as the bottle by which the infant is fed, 
that are first apprehended as real objects. After some 
months of tactile investigation the interpretation of visual 
impressions becomes more easy and automatic. Sight now 
grows self-sufficient. What may be roughly marked off 
as the touching age gives place to the seeing age. Hence- 
forth the growth of perception is to a large extent an im- 
provement of visual capability. 

At first this power of discerning the forms of objects 
with the eye is very limited. A child will note one or two 
prominent and striking features of a thing but overlook 
the others. Thus, in looking at real animals or at his toy 

* M. Perez (" First Three Years of Childhood," pp. 226, 227) re- 
marks that a child of six months will take a flat disk with gradations 
of light and shade for a globe. He also remarks that children of fif- 
teen months and more are liable to make absurd blunders as to the 
distance of remote objects, hills, the horizon, etc. 



DEVELOPMENT OF PERCEPTUAL POWER. 123 

or picture imitations, he will distinguish a quadruped from 
a bird, but not one quadruped from another. Similarly, 
he will distinguish a very big dog from a small one, but 
not one dog from another of similar size. 

The progress of perception grows with increase of 
visual discrimination ; that is to say, of the capability of 
distinguishing one color, one direction of a line, and so 
on, from another. It presupposes, further, the growth of 
the power of attention which is the main ingredient in ob- 
servation. As experience advances, children find it easier 
to note the characteristic aspects of things and to recog- 
nize them ; and they take more pleasure in detecting their 
differences and similarities. In this way their observations 
tend gradually to improve in distinctness and accuracy. 
Not only so, an increased power of attention enables them 
to seize and embrace in a single view a number of details. 
In this way their first vague, *' sketchy " percepts get filled 
out. Thus, a particular flower or animal is seen more 
completely in all its details of color and its relations of 
form. At the same time they acquire the power of appre- 
hending larger and more complex objects, such as whole 
buildings, ships, etc. ; and, further, assemblages of many 
objects, as the furniture in a room, or the plants in a gar- 
den, in their proper relative positions. 

The observing powers may develop in different direc- 
tions, according to special capabilities and special circum- 
stances. The possession of a particular mode of discrimi- 
native sensibility in a high form, and a strong correlated 
interest in the particular class of impressions, will lead to 
a special consideration of things on that side. Thus the 
child with a fine eye for color will be specially observant 
of the color-side of objects. Again, the faculty of obser- 
vation may grow in rapidity of action, and in grasp of a 
multitude of objects, according to the individual's special 
powers of attention. Once more, the development of a 
particular interest in a class of objects, as animals, flowers, 



124 THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS, 

faces, etc., will determine a special acuteness of observa- 
tion in respect of these. Thus a boy with a marked love 
of horses becomes specially observant of their forms, ac- 
tions, etc. So a boy with a strong leaning to mimicry and 
a keen, humorous interest in the expression of people's 
faces, etc., will be particularly observant in this direction. 
It may be added that particular enlargements of tactile 
and other experience will serve to give a particular depth 
and richness of suggestion to the individual's percepts. 
Thus a person who acquires special knowledge of the tan- 
gible properties of natural substances, woven fabrics, etc., 
will see more in these objects than another person. 

Training of the Observing Powers. — This branch 
of intellectual training goes on in close connection with, 
and is at the same time the completion of, that training 
of the senses on their discriminative side which was con- 
sidered in the last chapter. The first years of life are 
marked out by nature as the age for exercising the observ- 
ing powers. The objects that surround the child are new 
and excite a vivid interest. He spontaneously spends 
much of his time in manipulating and scrutinizing things. 
The overflowing muscular activity of a healthy child is 
highly favorable to experimental investigation. 

The beginnings of the education of the observing 
powers belong to the nursery, and consist in supplying the 
child with ample room to move about and a good stock 
of objects of interest for manual and visual inspection. 
Nothing is more fatal to this early development than 
checking muscular activity, forbidding children to touch 
and examine things.* By a free exertion of activity the 
child will learn for himself to organize his tactile and 
visual experiences so as to become proficient in interpret- 

* As Miss Edgeworth observes, the best toys for the infant are 
things that can be grasped without danger, as ivory sticks, balls, etc., 
by help of which differences of size and form may be learned. (" Prac- 
tical Education," i, pp. 7, 8.) 



EXERCISE IN OBSERVING FORM. 125 

ing the visual signs of distance, solidity, etc. The addi- 
tion of flat representations of solid objects in picture- 
books is a valuable supplement to this first domestic en- 
vironment, since they help to fix the child's attention in a 
new way on the purely visible side of things, the differ- 
ence and at the same time the similarity between the real 
solid thing and its pictorial representation. A more act- 
ive direction of the observing faculty is required when 
the child grows and is capable of better fixing his attention 
on objects. This is the moment for calling his attention 
to less obtrusive objects at a distance, and so carrying 
forward the process of self-education to a more advanced 
point. 

Exercise in observing Form. — The transition 
from the nursery to the school should be marked by a 
more systematic training of the observing powers. This 
properly begins with exercising the child in the more ac- 
curate perception of form. The Kindergarten system has 
this as its chief aim. The principles which govern this 
early department of training are as follows : (i) The per- 
ception of form is grounded on the child's active experi- 
ences and the use of the hand. It is by the spontaneous 
outgoings of his muscular energy in examining objects and 
constructing them that all perception of real form arises. 
(2) The development of the perception of form should 
proceed from a conjoint tactile and visual, to an inde- 
pendent visual perception. (3) The observation of form 
should be exercised conformably to the general laws of 
mental development, viz., passing from the rude and in- 
definite to the exact and definite, from the concrete to the 
abstract, and from the simple to the complex. The Kin- 
dergarten gifts and occupations clearly satisfy these con- 
ditions in general. Froebel was psychologically right in 
utilizing the child's spontaneous activity, in setting out 
with tangible objects, as the ball, etc., and in attaching so 
much importance to the exercise of the child's construct- 



126 THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 

ive activity in the reproduction of form by the occupa- 
tions of modeling, stick-laying, paper-folding, etc. All 
such exercises involve a recreation of form by actions of 
the hand similar to those by which the infant spontaneous- 
ly investigates the form of things. Hence they are to be 
regarded as the natural completion of the earlier training 
of the nursery. 

Such exercises do not, however, constitute all that is 
meant by training the child in the perception of form. 
From an early period he is interesting himself in the 
forms of natural objects, as animals, trees, flowers, etc., 
as well as buildings, articles of furniture, etc. And he 
should be exercised in a more close and exact observation 
of these forms. The child naturally observes at first only 
the more salient features of an object, such as the tallness 
of the poplar, the long neck of the swan, which may after- 
ward serve as a rough mark for identifying the object. 
How little he really notes may be seen by his first rude 
attempts at drawing the human figure, the horse, etc. The 
development of the perception of form proceeds analyti- 
cally, the rough outline being first apprehended, and then 
the several details. The educator should follow this order, 
and practice the observer in attention to the minuter de- 
tails of form. In this way the child will grow more dis- 
criminative in his perceptions of form and learn more 
about the minute parts of common and familiar objects. 

Here, again, the hand should be called in, in order to 
reproduce what is seen. The child's spontaneous impulse 
to imitate nature by drawing is one of the most valuable 
ones to the educator. Compared with modeling, drawing 
is to a certain extent abstract, since it separates the visible 
form from the tangible. Accordingly it is best taken up 
after modeling, building, etc. At the same time the child 
commonly manifests the impulse to draw at an early age, 
and the satisfaction of the impulse provides an excellent 
means of gaining a closer acquaintance with visible form. 



CONCRETE OBJECTS. 1 27 

Not only so, by employing the hand in the production or 
creation of form by definite manual movements, drawing 
supplies a valuable additional means of training the eye 
and the hand in unison, and so of perfecting the connec- 
tions between touch and sight. A child who has become 
skillful in drawing has not only acquired a useful manual 
art, but has helped to develop his power of seeing^ i. e., of 
deciphering the symbols that present themselves to his 
eye. In these exercises the teacher should be satisfied 
at first with rough and approximate imitations of natural 
forms, and aim at making these more close and accurate 
by practice.* 

A more advanced stage in the visual perception of form 
is reached when the learner takes up the abstract consid- 
eration of form by a study of the elements of geometry. 
A knowledge of lines, curves, angles, etc., should distinct- 
ly follow a certain amount of exercise in the observa- 
tion and reproduction of concrete forms. To distinguish 
a straight line or a right angle is a dry and uninter- 
esting exercise compared with noting the form of some 
real object, and involves a certain development of the 
power of abstraction. Such exercises should be com- 
menced by references to concrete forms, as the window- 
frame, the edge of the house, its gable, etc. In this way 
the child will gain an interest in the subject, and at the 
same time further develop his perceptions of concrete forms 
by a clearer recognition of their constituent parts. 

The Object-Lesson. — After the exercise of the 
child in the perception of form comes the training of the 
senses as a whole in the knowledge of objects and their 
constituent qualities. The systematic development of 
this side of the training of the senses gives us the object- 
lesson. By this is meant the presentment to the pupil's 
senses of some natural substance, as coal, chalk, or lead ; 

* On the best way to exercise the child in drawing, see Mr. Spen- 
cer's "Education," chap, ii, p. 79, and following. 



128 THE SENSES : OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 

some organic structure, as a plant or animal ; or, finally, 
some product of human industry, as glass or a piece of 
furniture ; and such a detailed and orderly unfolding of 
its several qualities, its capabilities of being acted on by, 
and of acting on, other things, its relations of depend- 
ence on surroundings, etc., as will result in the fullest 
and clearest knowledge of the object as a whole and its 
conditions. It is evident, from this general description, 
that the object-lesson makes a special appeal to the sev- 
eral senses, and, while thus exercising the senses separate- 
ly, helps to train the learner in the connecting and organ- 
izing of a number of impressions. Thus, in an object- 
lesson on one of the metals there is an appeal made to the 
sense of touch (sensations of hardness, smoothness, etc.), 
and in one on salt, an appeal to the sense of taste. The 
object-lesson thus falls into two parts: (i) the detailed 
exposition and naming of the various qualities, and (2) 
the summing up of the results in a description of the 
whole thing. The object-lesson is a training in close ob- 
servation of objects ; and, since the first stage of science 
is observation, including experiment, this form of instruc- 
tion constitutes a fit introduction to the study of physical 
science. Its value depends, first of all, on the extent to 
which the observing powers of the class have been made 
use of. The teacher must not tell the pupils what the 
object is, but stimulate them to observe for themselves. 
Again, it depends on the clearness and precision with 
which the several properties have been unfolded, so that a 
complete and accurate idea of the whole may be attained. 
Once more, it involves the proper use of juxtaposition, so 
as to exercise the observer's power of comparison and dis- 
crimination. And, lastly, it implies that the result of each 
separate observation has been carefully recorded by a 
suitable name. The object-lesson, properly carried out, 
is one of the best methods of developing in children a 
habit of observation and a taste for scientific experiment. 



PURPOSE OF THE OBTECT-LESSON, 129 

The object-lesson aims at nothing beyond the training 
of the observing powers themselves. Its purpose is real- 
ized when the object has been accurately inspected and 
its properties learned. Hence it must be marked off from 
all appeals to the senses which subserve the better imagi- 
nation and understanding of a subject dealt with mainly 
by verbal instruction, such as the use of models and maps 
in teaching geography ; coins, pictures, etc., in teaching 
history ; and such an apparatus as Mr. Sonnenschein's in 
teaching the elements of number. All these exercises 
call in the aid of the senses according to the general prin- 
ciple of modern education, that knowledge begins with the 
apprehension of concrete things by the senses of the child. 

While the calling in of the pupil's observing powers is 
thus a characteristic of the right method in all branches 
of teaching, there are some subjects which exercise the 
faculty of observation in a more special manner. Thus, 
the study of geometry and of languages help, each in its 
own special and restricted way, to exercise the visual ob- 
servation of form. But the study which most completely 
and most rigorously exercises the faculty of observation is 
natural science. A serious pursuit of chemistry, mineral- 
ogy, botany, or some branch of zoology, as entomology, 
trains the whole visual capacity, and helps to fix a habit 
of observing natural objects, which is one of the most val- 
uable rewards that any system of education can bestow. 

It is not to be forgotten, however, that the best train- 
ing of the observing powers lies outside the range of 
school exercises. A habit of close observation of nature 
is best acquired in friendly association with, and under the 
guidance of, an observant parent or tutor, in hours of 
leisure. A daily walk with a good observer will do more 
to develop the faculty than the most elaborate school 
exercises. The training of the observing powers is indeed 
that part of intellectual education that most requires the 
aid of other educators than the schoolmaster. And one 



130 



THE SENSES: OBSERVATION OF THINGS. 



evil resulting from our modern aggregation into big towns, 
and our growing school demands on the time and ener- 
gies of children, is that so little opportunity and energy- 
remain for those spontaneous beginnings in the observa- 
tion of nature, the forms of hill and dale, the movements 
of stream, waves, etc., the forms and movements of plants 
and animals, which are the best exercise of the observing 
faculty ; and for those simpler and more attractive kinds 
of scientific observation, e. g., collecting birds' eggs, fossils, 
etc., which grow naturally out of children's play-activity. 

APPENDIX. 
On the training of the observing powers, the reader will do well to 
consult Mr. Spencer's " Essay on Education," chap, ii, and Miss You- 
mans's little work on the "Culture of the Observing Powers of Chil- 
dren." The function of the nursery in drawing out the observing 
faculty is well illustrated by Miss Edgeworth, " Practical Education," 
chap, i, " Toys." The difficult subject of the object-lesson is dealt 
with in a suggestive way by Dr. Bain, " Education as a Science," chap, 
viii, p. 247, etc. ; and by Mr. Calkins, " New Primary Object-Lessons" 
(Harper & Brothers), p. 359, etc. The German reader may with ad- 
vantage read Waitz, " Allgemeine Paedagogik," part ii, section i, 
" Die Bildung der Anschauung." 



D. APPLETON & CO/S PUBLICATIONS. 



THE HISTORY OF BIMETALLISM IN THE UNITED 
STATES. By J. Laurence Laughlin, Ph. D., Assistant Pro- 
lessor of Political Economy in Harvard University ; author of " The 
Study of Political Economy," etc. With Sixteen Charts and nu- 
merous Tables. One volume. 8vo. Cloth, $2.25. 

"Although the plan of this book was conceived with the view of presenting 
Blmply a history of bimetallism in the United States, it has been necessary, in 
the nature of the subject, to make it something more than that. And yet it was 
my hope that the effect of an historical inquiry in suppressing some of the 
theoretical vagaries of the day might be realized by showing what our actual 
experience with bimetallism has been in contrast with the assertions of some 
writers as to what it may be."— i?Vcwi Pr^ace. 

THE STUDY OF POLITICAL ECONOMY. HINTS TO 
STUDENTS AND TEACHERS. By J. Laurence Laughlin, Ph. D., 
Assistant Professor of Political Economy in Harvard University. 
16mo. Cloth, $1.00. 

" The existence of this little book is due to an attempt to convey, by lectures 
to students, an understanding of the position which political economy holds in 
regard, not merely to its actual usefulness for every citizen, but to its disciplinary 

{)ower. . . . The interest which the public now manifests in economic studies 
ed me to put the material of my lectures into a general form, in order that they 
might assist inquirers in any part of the country."— J^/twi Preface. 

MILL'S PRINCIPLES OF POLITICAL ECONOMY: 

ABRIDGED WITH CRITICAL, BIBLIOGRAPHICAL, AND EX- 
PLANATORY NOTES, AND A SKETCH OF THE HISTORY 
OF POLITICAL ECONOMY. By J. Laurence Laughlin, Ph. D., 
Assistant Professor of Political Economy in Harvard University. 
With Twenty-four Maps and Charts. A Text-book for Colleges. 
8vo. 658 pages. Cloth, $3.50. 

" An experience of five years with Mr. Mill's treatise in the class-room con- 
vinced me, not only of the great usefulness of what still remains one of the most 
lucid and systematic books yet published which cover the whole range of the 
study, but I have also been convinced of the need of such additions as should 
give the results of later thinking, without militating against the general tenor 
of Mr. Mill's system; of such illustrations as should fit it better for American 
students, by turning their attention to the application of principles in the facts 
around us ; of a bibliography which should make it easier to get at the writers 
of other schools who offer opposing views on controverted questions ; and of 
some attempts to lighten those parts of his work in which Mr. Mill frightened 
away the reader by an appearance of too great abstractness, and to render them, 
if jiossible, more easy of comprehension to the student who first approaches 
Political Economy through this author."— ii^ro/w Preface. 

POLITICAL ECONOMY. By W. Stanley Jevons, Professor of 
Logic and Political Economy in Owens College, Manchester. ISmo. 
Flexible cloth, 45 cents. 

MONEY AND THE MECHANISM OF EXCHANGE. By 

W. Stanley Jevons. 12mo. Cloth, $1.75. 



New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



APPLETONS' INSTRUCTIVE READING-BOOKS, 

NATURAL HISTORY SERIES. 

By Professor JAMES JOHONNOT, 

Author of " Principles and Practice of Teaching," " Geographical Reader," 
"How we Live," etc. 



No. 1. 
Book of Cats and Dogs, and other Friends. For Little Folks. 

No. 2. 

Friends in Feathers and Fur, and other Neighbors. For 
Young Folks. 

No. 3. 
Neighbors with Wings and Fins, and some Others. For 
Boys and Girls. 

No. 4. 

Neighbors with Claws and Hoofs, and their Kin. For 

Young People. 

No. 5. 
Glimpses of the Animate "World : Science and Literature 
of Natural History. For School or Home. 



The publication of " Appletons' Instructive Reading-Books " marks a 
distinct and important advance in the adaptation of special knowledge 
and general literature to the intelligent comprehension of pupils of all 
grades of attainment. The importance of this movement and its value 
to the present generation of school-children can not be overestimated. 

The Natural History Series contains a full course of graded lessons 
for reading upon topics and in a style that are of the most fascinating 
interest to children and young people, while training them to habits of 
observation, and storing their minds with useful information. 

D. APPLE TON & CO., Publishers, 

NEW YORK, BOSTON, CHICAGO, SAN FRANCISCO. 



APPLETONS' 

SCIENCE TEXT-BOOKS. 



D. Appleton & Co. have the pleasure of announcing that in repponse to the 
growing interest in the study of the Natural Sciences, and a demand for improved 
text-books representing the more accurate phases of scientific knowledge, and 
tlie present active and widening field of investigation, they have made arrange- 
i&ents for the publication of a series of text-books to cover the whole field Of 
science-study in High Schools, Academies, and all schools of similar grade. 

The author in each separate department has been selected with regard to his 
especial fitness for the work, and each volume has been prepared with an especial 
reference to its practical availability for class use and class study in schools. No 
abridgment of labor or expense has been permitted in the efl"ort to make this 
series worthy to stand at the head of all educational publications of this kind. 
Although the various books have been projected with a view to a comprehensive 
and harmonious series, each volume will be wholly independent of the others, 
and complete in itself. 



NOW READY. 

THE EliEMENTS OF CHEMISTRY. By Professor F. W. Clarke, 
Chemist of the United States Geological Survey. 12mo. Cloth, $1.40. 

THE ESSENTIALS OF ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND HY- 
GIENE. By Roger S. Tract, M. D., Health Inspector of the New York 
Board of Health ; author of " Hand-Book of Sanitary Information for House- 
holders," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.20. 

A COMPEND OF GEOLOGY. By Joseph Le Conte, Professor of Geol- 
ogy and Natural History in the University of California; author of "Ele- 
ments of Geology," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.40. 

ELEMENTS OF ZOOLOGY. By C. F. Holder, Fellow of the New York 
Academy of Science, Corresponding Member Linnaenn Society, etc. ; and J. 
B. Holder, M. D., Curator of Zoology of American Museum of Natural 
History, Central Park, New York. l2mo. Cloth, $1.40. 

DESCRIPTIVE BOTANY. A Practical Guide to the Classification of Plants^ 
with a P(»pular Flora. By Eliza A. Youmans, author of "The First Boob 
of Botany," editor of " Henslow's Botanical Charts." 12mo. Cloth, $1.40. 

Other volumes to follow as rapidly as they can he prepared. 



New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bonl Street. 



THE ORTH OEPIST: 

A PRONOUNCING MANUAL, 

Containing about Three Thousand Five ri:undred "Words, including 

a Considerable Number of the Names of Foreign Authors, 

Artists, etc., that are often mispronounced. 

By ALFRED AYRES. 

SELECTIONS FROM THE WORK. 

ab-do'men, not ^b'do- 

men. 
ac-crue', not -cru'. 

The orthoepists agree that u^ 
preceded by r iu the same syl- 
lable, generally becomes simply 
00^ as in rude^ rumor, rural, rule. 

al-l5p'a-tliy; al-l5p'a- 

tliist* 
Ar'a-bic, not A-ra'bic. 
Asia — a'slie-a, not a'zha. 
ay, or aye (yes)— I. 
aye (always) — a. 
Bis'marck, not biz'-. 

At the end of a syllable, s, 
in German, has its sharp sound. 

Cairo — ^in Egypt, ki'ro ; 

in the United States^ 

ka'ro. 
dec'ade, not de-kad'. 
de-co'roiis. 

The authority is small, and is 
becoming less, for saying dec'o- 
rous, which is really as incor- 
rect as it would be to say son'o- 
rous. 



def i-cit, not de-fig'it. 
di§-dain', 7iot dis-. 
di§-li5n'or, not dis-. 
ec-o-n5m'i-cal, or e-co- 

n5m'i-cal. 
e-nerVate. 

The only authority for saying 
en'er-vdte is popular usage ; all 
the orthoepists say e-ner'vdte. 

ep'oeh, not e'p5€li. 

The latter is a Websterian 
pronunciation, which is not even 
permitted in the late editions. 

:^n-an-cier'. 

Rarely pronounced correctly. 

Hei'ne, not hme. 

Final e in German is never 
silent. 

honest — 5n'est, not -ist, 
nor -list. 

" Ronesf, honest Tago," is 
preferable to "honws^, honust 
lago," some of our accidental 
Othellos to the contrary not- 
withstanding. 

i§'o-late, or is'o-late, not 
i'so-lat. 



One volume, 18mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00. 



" The book is an exceHent one, which is likely to do more for the cause of 
good speech than any work with which we are acquainted." — Post. 

New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 6 Bond Street 



APPLETONS' INSTRUCTIVE READING-BOOKS 

FOR SUPPLEMENTARY READING. 



THE NATURAIi HISTORY SERIES. By James Johonnot, 
author of "Principles and Practice of Teaching," "Geographical 
Reader," " ilow We Live," etc. 

No. 1. Book of Cats and Do§:s, and other Friends, For 

Little Folks. 12mo. 96 pages. Deals with the familiar animals 
of the house and farm-yard. 

No. 2. Friends in Feathers and Fur and other Neighbors. 

For Young Folks. 12mo. 140 pages. Gives an account of the 
chickens, ducks, and geese about home, and of the birds, squirrels, 
rabbits, and other animals found near home. 

No. 3. Neighbors with Wings and Fins and some others. 

For Boys and Girls. Interspersed with interesting stories, it gives 
descriptions of birds, reptiles, and insects, in such a way as to lead 
to scientific classification. 

No. 4. Neighbors with Claws and Hoofs and their Kin. 

For Young People. Begins with the familiar animals of house and 
field, and reaches out to a general description and classification of 
mammals. 

No. 5. Glimpses of the Animate World : Science and 
liiterature of Natural History. For School or Home. 12rao. 
414 pages. Treats of special topics, and is made up of the literature 
of natural history. The articles are from the pens of some of our 
most distinguished scientists and literary writers. 

The publication of this series marks a distinct and important advance 
in the adaptation of special knowledge and general literature to the 
intelligent comprehension of pupils of all grades of attainment. The 
importance of this movement and its value to the present generation of 
school-children can not be overestimated. While in no wise tending to 
do away with the regular school-readers, philosophically constructed in 
accordance with correct educational principles, the " Instructive Read- 
ing-Books " introduce suggestive and valuable information and specific 
knowledge, covering many of the subjects which will eventually be more 
minutely investigated by the maturing of the pupil's mind. 

Natural History in the Instructive Reading Course is to be followed 
by History, Geography, Science, and the Industries — all topics to arouse 
attention in their turn, and to fill the mind with knowledge of the great- 
est use. These are now in preparation, and will be announced in detail 
from time to time. 



New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



READING AND ORATORY, 



A GEOGRAPHICAL READER. A Collection of Geographical 
Descriptions and Narrations, from the best Writers in English Lit- 
erature. Classified and arranged to meet the wants of Geoirraphical 
Students, and the higher grades of reading classes. By James 
JoHONNOT, author of "Principles and Practice of Teaching." 12mo. 
Cloth. 418 pages. 
This Reader is not simply a compilation of dry statistics from the 
text-book of geography. It is a carefully selected and classified series of 
extracts from standard works of travel by well-known writers, giving 
spirited, entertaining, and instructive accounts of noted places, and the 
physical features of the globe, and are all of high literary merit. No 
more interesting or suitable work for reading classes in intermediate or 
grammar grades, or for home libraries, could be selected. 

AN" HISTORICAL READER, for Classes in Academies, High 
Schools, and Grammar Schools. By Henry E. Shepherd, M. A. 
12mo. 845 pages. 
A collection of extracts representing the purest historical literature 
that has been produced in the different stages of our literary develop- 
ment, from the time of Clarendon to the era of Macaulay and Prescott. 

THE STANDARD SUPPLEMENTARY READERS. Ed- 
ited by William Swinton and George R. Cathcart. 
Comprising a series of carefully graduated reading-books, designed to 
connect with any of the regular series of Readers. They are attractive 
in appearance, and the first four books are profusely illustrated by Fred- 
ericks, White, Dielman, Church, and others. There are six books in the 
series, as follows : 

I. Easy Steps for Little Feet. Supplementary to First 
Reader. Cloth. 128 pages. 
II. Golden Book of Choice Reading. Supplementary to 
Second Reader. Cloth. 192 pages. 
III. Book of Tales. Supplementary to Third Reader. Cloth. 

276 pages. 
IV. Readings in the Book of Nature, Supplementary to 
Fourth Reader. Cloth. 352 pages. 
v. Seven American Classics. ) Supplementary to Fifth Reader. 
VI. Seven British Classics. \ Cloth. 224 pages each. 

MANDEVILLE'S READING AND ORATORY, 12mo. 

356 pages. 
MANDEVILLE'S COURSE OF READING. 12mo. 377 

pages. 
HOWS'S HISTORICAL SHAKESPEARIAN READER. 

12mo. 503 pages. 
HOWS'S SHAKESPEARIAN READER. 12mo. 447 pages. 



New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



APPLETONS' 

STUDENTS' Library, 



Consisting of Thirty-four Volumes on Subjects in Science, His- 
TORY, Literature, and Biography. In neat i8mo vol- 
umes, bound in cloth. Each set put up in a box. 



SOLD IN SETS ONLY. 



PRICE, PER SET, $20.00. 



CONTAINING : 
Homer. By "W. E. Gladstone. \ 1 
Shakespeare. By E. Dowden. j vol, 
English liiterature. By S. A. \ 



Brooke 
Greek Literature 

Jkbb. 



By K. C. 



Philology. By J. Peile. 
English Composition. 

NlCHOL. 



By J. 



■t 



Geography. By G. Grove. 
Classical Geography. By 

F. TOZEE. ^ ^ ' ^ 

Introduction to Science 1 

Primers. By T. H. Huxley. V 

Physiology. By M. Foster. ) 

Chemistry. By H. E. Roscoe. | 

Physics, By Balfour Stewart. J 

Geology. By A. Geikie. } 

Botany. By J. D. Hooker. f 

Astronomy. By J. N. Lockter. 1 

Physical Geography. By A. \ 

Geikfe. ) 

Political Economy. By W. S. 1 

Jevons. I 

liOgic. By "W. S. Jevons. j 

History of Europe* By E. A.'l 
Freeman. ' 

History of France. By C. 

YONGE. 

History of Rome. By M. 

Creighton. 
History of Greece. By C. A. 

FyrFB. 
Old Greek liife. By J. P. 

MAIIAFFr. 

Roman Antiquities. By A. S. 

WiLKlNS. 

Sophocles. By Lewis Campbell. | 
Euripides. By J. P. Mahafft. f 
Vergil. By Prof. H. Nettleship. \ 
L.ivy. By W. W. Capes. J 

Milton. By Stopford A. Brooke. I 
Demosthenes. By 8. H. Butcher, j 



The Apostolic Fathers and the 
Apologists. By the Eev. G. A. 
Jackson. 



The Fathers of the Third Century. 

By the Kev. G. A. Jackson. 

Thomas Carlyle ; His Life— his Books 
—his Theories. Yty A. H. Guernsey. 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. By A. H. 

Guernsey. 

3Iacaulay: As Life— his Writiners. Bv 
C.H.Jones. ^ ^ 

Short IJfe of Charles Dickens. 

By C. H. Jones. 

Short Life of Gladstone. By C. H. 

Jones. 

Rnskin on Painting. 



The World's Paradises 

W. Benjamin. 



Town Geology. 

LEY. 



By S. G. 
By Chables Kings- 
By 



The Childhood of Religions. 

£. Clodd. 

History of the Early Church. By 

E. M. Bewell. 

The Art of Speech. Poetry and 
Prose. By L. P. Townsend. 

The Art of Speech. Eloquence and 
Logic. By L. P. Townsend. 

The Great German Composers. 

By G. T. Ferris. 

The Great Italian and French 
Composers. By G. T. Ferris. 

Great Singers. First Series. By G. 
T. Ferris. 



Great Singers. 

G. T. Ferris. 



Second Series. By 



Great Violinists and Pianists. By 

G. T. Ferris. 



New York : D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



APPLETONS' SCHOOL READERS, 



WM. T. HARRIS, LL. D., SupH of Schools, St. Louis, Mo. 
A. J. RICKOPF, A. M., SupH of Instruction, Cleveland, Ohio. 
MARK BAILEY, A. M., Instructor in Elocution, Tale College. 

CONSISTING OF FIVE BOOKS, SUPERBLY ILLUSTRATED. 



Appletons' First Reader. Child's Quarto. 90 pages. 

In the First Reader the combined word and phonic methods are ad- 
mirably developed and carefully graded. In the first 52 pages (Part I), 
in connection with beautiful and child-life reading-lessons, are taught the 
names of all the letters, the short sounds of the vowels, and the sounds of 
the consonants and diphthongs. In Part II are found a systematic mark^ 
ing of silent letters and the more easily distinguished sounds of vowels, 
and a continued drill in the sounds of consonants. The aim is to make 
the pupil acquainted with the forms and powers of letters, and the sound, 
construction, and meaning of words. The pictorial illustrations have 
been made a feature not only of unusual attractiveness, but are instruct- 
ive and interesting adjuncts to the text, as subjects for study and oral 
exercises. 

Appletons' Second Beader. 12mo. 143 pages. 

This continues the plan of the First, and gives a complete table of all 
the vowel and consonant sounds with their markings according to Webster 
— " A Key to Pronunciation." Preceding each reading-lesson the new 
words of that lesson are carefully marked for a spelling-exercise. This 
Reader gives prominence to the phonic analysis and the noting of silent 
letters, to the placing of diacritical marks, which must be learned by prac- 
tice in marking words ; also, to the spelling of words and to sentence- 
making, using the words occurring in the reading-lessons. 

Appletons' Third Reader. 12mo. 214 pages. 

In this Reader the plan of the Second is continued, with the addition 
of some important features, notably the lessons " How to read," placed at 
intervals through the book. They form the preliminary instruction in 
elocution which Professor Bailey has developed in this and the succeeding 
volumes in a masterly and unique manner. 

The selection of " comi)aratively common words," yet such as are easily 
and usually misspelled, niimbering about five hundred, given at the close, 
is a feature of very great practical value, and answers beyond cavil the 
question sometimes asked, " Ought not a speller to accompany or precede 
the series ? " 

[see next PAGK.J 



APPLETONS' SCHOOL i2^^i)£'i2/S'.— (Continued.) 



Introductory Fourth Reader. 12mo. 

Designed for those pupils who have finished the Third Reader, and 
are yet too young or too immature to take up the Fourth. 

Appletons' Fourth Reader. 12mo. 248 pages. 

It is here that the student enters the domain of literature proper, and 
makes the atquaintance of the standard writers of " English undeliled " in 
their best style. Having received adequate preparation in the previous 
books, he is now able to appreciate as well as to assimilate the higher 
classics now before him. 

A new and invaluable feature in the editorship of this and the next 
volume is the " Preparatory Notes " appended to each selection, for the 
aid of both teacher and pupil. 

The elocutionary work commenced in the Third Reader is continued 
and gradually advanced to the higher phases of the subject. Spelling- 
exercises are also appended, introducing " Words difficult to spell," with 
both phonic and what are usually known as orthographic principles for- 
mulated into rules. Beautifully engraved full- page illustrations embellish 
the interior of the book, and render it artistically chaste and attractive. 

Appletons' Fifth Reader. 12mo. 4Y1 pages. 

This Reader is the one to which the editors have given their choicest 
efforts. The elementary principles of the earlier volumes are not forgot 
ten in this, but are subordinated to matters germane to more advanced 
teaching. The '* Preparatory Notes " are more advanced than those of the 
preceding Reader, and seek to direct the mind more to style and the liter- 
ary character, and lastly to the logical element of the thought. Literary 
history and criticism are woven into the work in such way as to evoke 
thought and inquiry in the mind of the young. Extracts are given from 
Webster, Jefferson, Irving, Audubon, Cooper, Emerson, Wirt, and Wash- 
ington, along with others from De Quincey, Goethe, Victor Hugo, Byron, 
Shelley, Milton, Coleridge, and Shakespeare ; and with these is a vast 
amount of valuable information of every kind. It is, indeed, a text-book 
of belles-lettres^ as well as of reading and spelling. Professor Bailey's 
lessons in elocution are fuller than in preceding volumes, and can probably 
not be equaled in the language for perspicuous brevity and completeness. 
All the departments of recitation — the earnest and plain, the noble, the 
joyous, the sad — sarcasm, scorn, humor, passion, poetry — are given clearly 
and practically. The collection of " Unusual and Difficult Words " at the 
close comprises fifty-four lists of words which should always be kept in 
mind by the student. 

D, APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 

NEW YORK, BOSTON, CHICAGO, SAN FRANCISCO. 



DARWINISM STATED BY DARWIN HIM- 
SELF : 

CHARACTERISTIC PASSAGES FROM THE WRITINGS 
OF CHARLES DARWIN. Selected and arranged by Pro- 
fessor Nathan Sheppard. 12mo, cloth, $1.50. 

By means of a systematic selection of passages from the various 
writings of Charles Darwin, the reader of this volume is enabled to grasp 
readily the scope of Darwin's argument as to the origin and evolution of 
species. 

" I think you have done it well." — Professor Asa Gray. 

" It seems to me exceedingly interesting, and I will call the attention 
of those interested in such matters in this institution to the book." — 
Andrew D. White, LL. D., Freside7U of Cornell University. 

" It is done with great skill and judgment, and I shall be glad to make 
such use of the work as circumstances may allow."— F. B. Palmer, Ph. D., 
Principal of State Normal School, Fredonia^ N. Y. 

" The idea of culling Darwin's distinctive teachings from his many 
works, and giving an orderly statement of them in his own language, was 
a happy one, and ought to receive due recognition in a large demand for 
the book. I have taken pains to call the attention of our senior class to 
the book, and shall ask our Professors of Natural Science to make such 
use of it as they can in their instructions." — E. G. Robinson, D. D., 
LL. D., President of Brown University. 

" An intelligent and careful compilation of his (Darwin's) own state 
ments. These contain great and weighty truths, and, whether we accept 
his results as verified science or not, they are worthy of the careful study 
of all intelligent men."— M. B. Anderson, LL. D., President of Rochester 
University. 

" It is a real contribution to our knowledge of what the great English 
naturalist has to say. Very few will read at length his whole works; 
Very many will content themselves with second-hand information, always 
a misfortune. I shall be glad to recommend it." — E. Dodge, D. D., 
President of Madison University. 

D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers, 

New York. Boston. Chicago, San Fkancisco. 



hOV^ TO WRITE AND SPEAK CORRECTLY, 



THE ENGLISH GRAMMAR OF 
WILLIAM COBBETT. 

Carefully revised and annotated by Alfred Ayres. With Index. 
18mo. Cloth, extra, $1.00. 

'• I know it well, and have read it with great admiration."— Richard Grant "White. 

"Cobbetfs Grammar is probably the most readable grammar ever written. For 
the purposes of self-education it is unrivaled. Persons that studied grammar when at 
school and failed to comprehend its principles— and there are many such — as well as 
those that never have studied grammar at all, will find the book specially suited to 
their needs. Any one of averai^e intelligence that will give it a careful reading will be 
rewarded with at least a tolerable knowledge of the subject, as nothing could be more 
simple or more lucid than its expositions."— .Fa-ow the Preface. 

THE ORTHOEPIST: 

A Pronouncing Manual, containing about Three Thousand Five 
Hundred Words, including a Considerable Number of the 
names of Foreign Authors, Artists, etc., that are often mis- 
pronounced. By Alfred Ayres. 18mo. Cloth, extra, $1.00. 

" It gives us pleasure to say that we think the author, in the treatment of this very 
difficult and intricate subject, English pronunciation, gives proof of not only an unusual 
degree of orthoepical knowledge, but also, for the most part, of rare judgment and 
taste."— Joseph Thomas, LL. D., in Literary World. 

THE VERBALIST: 

A Manual devoted to Brief Discussions of the Right and the 
Wrong Use of Words, and to some other Matters of Interest 
to those who would Speak and Write with Propriety, includ- 
ing a Treatise on Punctuation. By Alfred Ayres. 18mo. 
Cloth, extra, $1.00. 

" This is the best kind of an English grammar. It teaches the right use of our 
mother-tongue by giving instances of the wrong use of it, and showing why they are 
wrong."— T/ie Churchman. 

" Every one can learn something from this volume, and most of us a great deal."— 
Springfield Republican. 

New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3, & 5 Bond Street. 



EDUCATION IN RELATION TO 
MANUAL INDUSTRY. 

By Arthur Mac Arthur, LL. D. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. 

" Mr. MacArthtir's able treatise is designed to adapt to the usual methods of 
instruction a system of rudimental science and manual art. He describes the 
progress of industrial education in France, Belgium, Russia, Germany, and Great 
Britain, and the establishment of their professional schools. The technical 
schools of the United States are next reviewed. Mr. MacArthur is anxious that 
the State governments should take up the subject, and enable every girl and boy 
to receive a practical education which would lit them for use in this world. This 
valuable book should be carefully read and meditated upon. The discussion is 
of higli importance."— P/iitorfe^y/^ia Fublic Ledger. 

" The importance of this book can not be too greatly urged. It gives a 
statistical account of the industries of various countries, the number of workmen 
and workwomen, and the degree of perfection attained. America is behind in 
native production, and. when we read of the importation of foreign workmen in 
simple manufacture such as glass, it is a stimulus for young men to train them- 
selves early as is done in foreign countries. The necessity of training-schools 
and the value and dignity of trades are made evident in this work. It is particu- 
larly helpful to women, as it mentions the variety of employments which they 
can practice, and gives the success already reached by them. It serves as a his- 
tory and encyclopaedia of facts relating to industries, and is very well written."— 
Boston Globe. 

"The advocates of iiidustrinl education in schools will find a very complete 
rcanual oi the whole subject in Mr. MacArthur's hook.''— Springfield Rejmblican. 

" A sensible and much-needed plea for the establishment of schools for indus- 
try by the state, supported by the practical illustration of what has been accom- 
plished for the good of the state by such schools in foreign countries. Great 
Britain has never regretted the step she took when, recognizing at the Crystal 
Palace Exhibition her inferiority in industrial art-work, she at once established 
the South Kensington Museum, with its annexed art-schools, at a cost of six mill- 
ion dollars."- The Critic. 

"The aim of the book is succinctly stated, as it ought to be, in the preface : 
'What is industrial education ? What are its merits and objects, and, above all, 
what power does it possess of ministering to some useful purpose in the practical 
arts of life?' These are questions about which we are deeply concerned in this 
country, and the author has essiyed to answer them, not by an abstract discus- 
i^ion of technical instruction, but by giviuir a full and accurate account of the 
experiments ^n industrial trainiuir which have been actually and successfully 
carried out in Europe." — New York Sun. 

"A most interesting and suggestive work on a matter of immediate and 
universal importance." — New York. Laity Graphic. 

"An admirable book on a much-neglected s ibject. Those countries have 
made the most rapid advance in the line of new industries which have paid the 
most attention to the methods here recommended of primary instruction. The 
land that neglects them will sooner or later cease to be in the front ranks of 
applied science and the useful ans..'''—New York Journal of Commerce. 



For sale by all booksellers ; or sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. 



New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 1, 3. & 5 Bond Street. 



